The Phantom and the Secretary Mysteries 1
by Mlle. Phoenix Fox
Summary: When two familiar figures from the Phantom’s past shows up with a way out of the shadows, a journey into a world of mystery, adventure and romance awaits...COMPLETE! please review! ErikOC
1. Chapter 1

. **_The Phantom and the Secretary Mysteries#1Ring of Fire_**

_When two familiar figures from the Phantom's past shows up with a way out of the shadows, a journey into a world of mystery, adventure and romance awaits..._

_DISCLAIMER: THE AUTHOR OF THIS STORY DOES NOT OWN ANY CHARACTERS OF THE PHANTOM OF THE OPERA CANON; JUST THE ORIGINAL CHARACTERS NOT AFFILIATED WITH THE ORIGINAL STORY. BASED ON ALW VERSION._

_1875_

The Rue Scribe was dark that night. Dark and covered with a blanket of fog settled down for the night. Neither ship nor soul disturbed her waters until a lone carriage drove along the shoreline. It stopped on the edge of the world renowned Opera Populaire. The coachman jumped down and opened the door for the passengers inside, who turned out to be M. Michael Firmin and M. Giles Andre. M. Andre reached inside and took the hand of a smart looking young woman in a chocolate brown suit dress with white pinstripes.

"Merci, Mousier." she told the shorter, middle aged man with wild gray hair and mustaches.

"You're quite welcome, Mlle. Carone." he replied politely before joining his partner's side to look up at the great stone masterpiece of architecture that sat before them. M. Firmin, a taller man with a graying brown pompadour, and a thick brown mustache said to M. Andre,

"The theater has been rebuilt for the past six months. Do you think he's still in there, Andre?" Andre shook his head,

"Hard to say. That new manager Garnier has not received any notes or warnings...nor have the cast and crew seen anyone in the shadows. We won't know until we get in there."

"I still can't believe we're actually going to do what YOU suggested we do!" said Firmin dryly.

"My dear Firmin, do we have a choice? I mean really, we've gotten in over our heads on this one. We NEED him!" stressed Andre.

"Who's him?" They turned to look at the twenty-one year old woman of lush golden brown hair and soft, ocean blue eyes set in a round open face. Andre sputtered,

"Him? Oh...well uh...he's...well...the man we are looking for rather...uh.." Firmin rolled his eyes and told their young secretary firmly,

"With any luck, our new consultant!" She nodded in understanding as they turned back to the Opera House and Firmin stepped forward saying,

"Now...We checked the blueprints...and there should be a direct tunnel to the fifth basement right here!"

"But I see nothing but solid wall!" protested Andre.

"Indeed!" sighed Firmin looking up the wall. Then Mlle. Carone's eyes lit up and she stepped forward a bit saying,

"No Mousiers! Look! The lamp attached to the wall there! Everywhere else they are eight feet apart but one of them is only two feet away from the next! I'll bet it's a trick with an angled mirror!" Firmin furrowed his brow and stepped closer to the wall. Then he took his cane and tapped the wall under the two lamps only to find nothing but air. He stepped under the lamps to indeed find a mirror angled to reflect the wall on the outside meanwhile keeping the tunnel completely hidden.

"Ingenious!" cried Firmin.

"Dozens past this wall every day and do not notice this place! The tunnel is in plain sight!" cried Andre.

"It would appear our old friend still is a bit of a magician." observed Firmin.

"Providing he is still here!" said Andre.

"Andre, think about it. Who else would have use for this trick? If he left, he would have made the tunnel noticeable." Firmin told his partner while leaning forward on his cane.

"He could have left in a rush." suggested Andre.

"Come on let's just get down there and find him!" said Firmin turning to progress into the tunnel.

"Shouldn't we take a torch Mousiers?" asked Mlle. Carone following them. They stopped and blocked her path.

"Mademoiselle, we must ask that you stay here with the carriage." said Firmin holding up his hands.

"What? But sirs..." she began.

"No buts, Mam'selle. This is extremely dangerous. We fear only for your safety. Don't worry, we shall return in a few hours." reassured Andre as he disappeared into the false wall behind his partner. Mlle. Carone huffed and turned back to the carriage in frustration.

The two gentlemen stepped forward cautiously about the tunnels. They could barely see in front of their hands, and if they weren't aware of each other's company, they would have been fearful of the sound of breathing.

"Perhaps...we should have brought a light..." said Andre with a nervous pitch to his voice.

"No...I think it'd be best to not make him aware of our presence just yet." said Firmin listening. Meanwhile, Mlle. Carone leaned against the carriage, but she eyed the driver who finally nodded off into sleep. Like a shot, she ran into the hidden tunnel to follow, almost losing her new hat. Firming turned and said to his friend,

"Did you hear something?"

"No...should I have?" asked Andre. Continuing on, Firmin stated,

"Probably noth-ING!" What had happened was this; our companions stepped on a stone in the path that gave way, and with a click a snare flew up from the ground and trapped Firmin's right leg and Andre's left. They were instantly hung upside down five feet from the floor. Further down behind them, Carone heard their yelling and broke again into a run to their rescue.

"What the devil?" yelled Firmin. Then a dark, baritone voice echoed all around them, a dark baritone they knew all too well.

"The devil indeed, Mousier."

"Firmin! It's him!" whispered Andre.

"Told you he was down here!" snapped Firmin. They heard a footstep from their right and they turned their heads to see the faded whiteness in the dark. A match was struck alongside the wall and a gloved leather hand lit the candles in the candelabra. Once the tunnel was illuminated, they saw not only each other, but the tall, lean man in the black cloak, black dress suit and that gleaming white leather mask covering half of a square face with a cleft in his chin, and anger flashing in his green and gold eyes. But this time, they noticed a scruffy beard along his jaw, and his natural thin mouse brown hair was down to his shoulders and tied in a messy ponytail. Yet there was no question in their minds. This was the man who five years ago, tried to threaten them to do as he commanded, to leave Box Five empty, to give him a salary of 20,000 francs a month; as well as trying to seduce and kidnap Mlle. Christine Daae, the new soprano. But the reason they were here tonight, was for the opinion of the man who did three more sins. He strangled two men, and dropped the chandelier on the audience below. They were here to solicit the advice of the Phantom of the Opera. The Phantom sneered at them,

"Did you miss me good Mousiers?"

"Please sir. Get us down!" asked Firmin.

"Whatever for? So you two fools can call the police? What are you doing here anyway?" asked the Phantom boredly folding his arms as he glared at them. Andre reached into his pocket, but the Phantom jumped back ready to defend himself. Andre lifted up his other hand, and then slowly pulled out a business card out of his jacket.

"Puh..puh...per...perhaps THIS shall explain our being here!" he stuttered out in fear. The Phantom stepped forward and whisked the card out of Andre's grasp.

"I'm getting a bloody headache!" whined Firmin.

"Shush!" Andre told him. The Phantom held the card up to the light and read,

'_Andre and Firmin _

_Private Investigators'_

The Phantom began to chuckle,

"You two? Private Investigators? Since when could you take on the criminal mindset, for you were absolute dolts when you had to deal with me!"

"Well we have solved a few cases!" said Andre.

"But the harder ones are the reason we came tonight!" said Firmin. The Phantom furrowed his brow,

"What do you mean?"

"We need your help! Ohh...now I'm starting to get dizzy!" said Andre blinking his eyes. Then all three men turned at the sound of the hissing of teeth.

"Wait! I think Mousiers...we have a guest!" spat the Phantom in wicked humor. He disappeared into the shadows a moment, before a feminine scream was cried out and then muffled. A shuffling of feet could be heard before the Phantom reemerged with Mlle. Carone struggling in his strong grasp with her mouth covered by his hand. Her hair was falling down, her new hat long forgotten as well as the scrape she got from the rough wall of the tunnel.

"Antoinette!" shouted Firmin worried about her.

"Mousiers, I take my leave, as does Mlle. Antoinette. If you wish to see her again, follow the tunnel. If you wish to speak to me, be warned, the dance of the peacock is not an easy path." said the Phantom before turning with Antoinette and disappearing.

"But what about us?" yelled Andre. Suddenly, the rope turned loose and they fell to the ground with a thud.

"Ow!" cried Firmin as Andre grunted in pain.

Before Antoinette knew it, she was being thrown into a gondola, the water splashing against the side. He took up a pole and began to guide the boat across the vast underground lake that she just now was beginning to notice. She looked up at him with hatred, to which he mockingly winked at her. She turned her head away in disgust. Before long, they reached an iron portcullis that began to raise out of the water with a creak. They sailed into a brightly-lit cavern, decorated to look like a house with faded red velvet curtains separating each room. He moored the boat and got out, offering his hand to her. She merely grabbed her skirts and stepped out on her own, not looking at him as she stood on the shoreline. He dropped his hand to the side again and told her,

"Do not worry, Mam'selle. Your employers should figure out my riddle soon enough." She looked at him in confusion,

"Riddle?"

Back in the tunnel, Firmin grabbed his partner's coat sleeve,

"Andre! It was a riddle!"

"What the devil are you talking about?" asked Andre holding up the torch they now had.

"When the Phantom told us "the dance of the peacock is not an easy path", he was telling us the way to find him! The dance of the peacock refers to a promenade type of dance involving intricate dance steps. The Phantom is a musician, so he probably has a door or something set up to be triggered by the dance of the peacock! If we did the dance, we could find him and Mlle. Carone!" Firmin told him. Andre glared at him a moment before saying,

"That is, without a doubt the most ridiculous load of rubbish I've ever heard!"

"What have we got to lose?" asked Firmin. Andre sighed,

"Well, how does it go?" Firmin held up his hands,

"Well, it's a partner dance first thing." Quirking a brow at him, Andre allowed himself in Firmin's dancer's embrace while muttering,

"Not a soul shall ever hear of this!"

"Understood! Now, I'll lead..." said Firmin,

"Why do you get to lead?" asked Andre.

"Because I know the dance and I'm the taller one!" said Firmin before continuing,

"Now, step to the left, two steps up the right, and three steps forward. Again, step to the left..."

Meanwhile, Antoinette asked the Phantom as he brought in some tea,

"So, if Mousier Andre and Mousier Firmin do your silly little dance, they'll trigger a trapdoor that will lead them here?"

"I get bored easily." he told her setting the silver tray full of mismatched dishes down.

"Obviously. I'm still not sure how we got out of that tunnel." she said.

"And I'm not sure why your employers sought me out, Mlle. Carone." he said watching her sip the tea she gave him. She sighed,

"They started their detective agency six months ago. They had found out for a friend that his wife had an infidelity and before they knew it, they were getting offers from all of Paris' elite to help them solve their little mysteries. They hired me a month later. They were doing fairly until three days ago, when they received in the post a letter from an English Lord. In it, he described some mysterious circumstances around the death of his late gardener. And he sent pictures..." She pulled out some photographs and a letter with a broken wax seal and handed it to the Phantom.

"Why are these in your possession and not your employers?" he asked reading the letter.

"Because they always lose things. Besides, what sort of detective's secretary would I be if I didn't love a good mystery?" she said with a smirk to which the Phantom looked up at her curiously then back down to the letter. It didn't escape her that he had turned a quick shade of red for a moment when he looked at her. What did escape her was how in a manner of minutes alone with this dangerous man, she now felt so safe and secure that she could open up to him about the case and even treat him like an old friend. She stifled a yawn as he asked her,

"The letter said the medical examiner determined the cause of death to be natural. Why is this a mystery?" She stood and pointed out to him the photograph of the dead body,

"Because someone tried to at least make it look like he was murdered. They poured kerosene on the ground and set it ablaze in a ring of fire. Mousiers Andre and Firmin tried to look up any significance of a ring of fire around a dead body, but they could find none. They are completely in the dark. That's why they came to you. They wanted someone who understands..." Upon seeing her face begin to pay attention to the floor, he finished for her,

"Someone who understands a killer's mind."

"Yes." she said quietly but evenly. She continued, "Apparently, you are the only person they know who can help them understand why someone would do this. They would be willing to pay you."

"As if I need their charity." he said bitterly leaning against his organ. Looking at the mismatched patches on his pants, she said,

"Don't you?" He looked down to where she was looking and covered the spot up with his cape. He cleared his throat,

"I have to admit this problem does intrigue me."

"Then (yawn) why don't (yawn) you accept (yawn!) their offer? Why am I so (yawn) sleepy?" she asked rubbing her eyes.

"That tea was laced with a sleeping drought." he said as she laid down on the settee nearby.

"Why?" she whispered trying not to close her eyes.

"Trust me. If you are Andre and Firmin's secretary, you'll need all the strength you can get!" he said taking his cloak off and draping it over her sleeping form. He kneeled beside her and took out the hairpins, combing a hand through her thick locks to shake them loose.

"Besides...I need to pack without any beautiful distractions interrupting me." he said gently stroking her chin before standing and retreating into his bedroom.

When she woke again, she didn't think it had been too long, but when she looked at her father's pocket watch, she saw with surprise that four hours had pasted by. A great many questions entered her mind. Where were Andre and Firmin? Why had he draped his cloak over her? When did she let her hair down? Then she saw the mysterious Phantom come out from one of his rooms, but now his jacket was off revealing his well fitted black brocade vest and off white shirt. He smiled a mischievous smile,

"Sleep well, Miss Carone?" She stood and put her hands on her hips,

"Didn't your mother ever teach you not to drug unsuspecting ladies?" He stiffened and said trying not to show any emotion,

"My mother sold me to the gypsies as a child." She looked down and said,

"Oh."

"I've been reviewing the letter and photographs you gave me. You're right. Whoever is behind this needs to match wits with a killer's intellect, not one of two men from the junk business." he said switching subjects as he sat at the desk and propped his boots up.

"Whoa!" yelled Andre and Firmin falling through a hidden doorway.

"Well, speak of the devils!" said the Phantom not looking up. Running over to them, Antoinette helped them up asking,

"Mousier Firmin, are you alright!"

"As well as can be expected my dear considering I had to dance a promenade with my partner in order to set off a trap door only to have to go back to the beginning four times because he neglected to tell me of his two left feet!" yelled Firmin his voice rising in crescendo. Andre stood and said,

"I'm use to leading!"

"Gentlemen, there are more important things right now than who stepped on whose toes. I'm told you sought me out to help you track down a potential killer." said the Phantom standing.

"Then Miss Carone filled you in on the particulars of the case?" asked Andre.

"She did. And it's obvious you need help." he said folding his arms.

"The question is will you be the one to help us?" asked Firmin.

"With a few conditions." he answered.

"Here we go!" said Firmin rolling his eyes.

"What are they?" asked Andre ignoring him.

"I go with you to investigate and I want an equal share in the commission you earn. You can take all the credit, just leave me with my share." he said.

"Sounds reasonable." nodded Andre.

"At least it isn't 20,000 francs!" muttered Firmin in a low tone.

"Agreed. Shall we shake on it?" asked Andre extending his hand towards this peculiar young man. The Phantom looked at it uneasily before reaching out and shaking the man's hand. Then he stood and went towards his bedroom saying,

"Come Mousiers, you can help me with my things."

"Certainly Mousier...Oh dash it all, what exactly are we to call him Andre?" Firmin asked his partner. The Phantom stopped in the doorway and said without turning,

"Erik. My name is Erik." Surprised at finally learning the Phantom's Christian name, Firmin only exchanged glances with Andre and followed while Antoinette whispered to herself in awe,

"Erik..."

When the coachman woke, the moon was beginning to descend from the night sky and he looked up to see his employers M. Andre and M. Firmin come out of the mysterious tunnel their arms loaded down with old trunks and valises. And behind them came Mlle. Carone on the arm of a tall gentlemen whose face was shrouded under a cowl, one case in his hand. Firmin dropped the suitcases on the ground as the coachman asked,

"Mousier?" As Andre lowered the bags he carried, grabbing his lower back with a look of pain, Firmin answered,

"Don't ask. Just get the bags!" The mysterious newcomer hesitated and looked back to the tunnel when Mlle. Carone said soothingly,

"Come Mousier Erik. That place holds nothing for you now." He nodded silently before helping her inside and stepping in himself. The coachman loaded the bags and then climbed up to the driver's seat and started off.

To say that Erik was not scared or nervous would be a misstatement. He still did not understand why these two former foes of his would trust and seek his aid. He also did not understand why Mlle. Carone did not seem to hold any fear for him. He also could not understand why he couldn't look away from her face. Trying not have an uncomfortable silence, M. Firmin spoke up,

"So...Erik...why didn't you leave the Opera that night?"

"There was no where else to go." said Erik simply.

"I'd always thought that if you were still alive you'd simply find private employment or something. Lord knows we learned you're clever enough to do anything." said Andre.

"A man without a last name who was enslaved by gypsies as a child doesn't really do too well in an interview Mousier." said Erik bitterly.

"Gypsies?" asked Andre in curiosity.

"I think we should all just keep quiet now!" said Firmin with a warning tone to his partner. Silence fell and Erik's gaze shifted back to Antoinette while Firmin watched the passing Parisian streets and Andre began to doze.

Soon, they came to a lonely driveway lined by trees. They stopped before the house and Erik asked,

"Don't your wives disapprove of late night quests?" Andre said before stepping out,

"My wife's a Catholic. She doesn't believe in divorce but she does believe in separation!" As Firmin stepped out, Erik asked,

"And you Mousier?" Firmin dryly replied,

"My wife was a Presbyterian. I'm lucky I got the house!" Erik got out and was surprised to hear Antoinette say,

"Can you help me down please?"

"You live here?" he asked in confusion as he offered his hand. She smiled and shrugged,

"A live-in secretary comes in handy for two new bachelors." They entered the two-story house of modestly painted walls with crown molding everywhere and marble floors.

"Mlle. Carone, see to our guest's needs, won't you?" yawned Firmin handing his hat and gloves to the butler as he and Andre went up the stairs.

"Oui Mousier. Jean Claude." said Antoinette taking off her gloves.

"Oui Mademoiselle?" asked the old gray butler giving Erik a curious look before following the lady up the stairs. Erik reluctantly followed them as Antoinette rattled on, clearly showing her authority in the household.

"We are to have coffee in the morning, not tea. Set the table for four. We are to have Mousier Erik in the west wing quest room. Draw him a bath in the morning won't you, and don't forget it's suppose to rain, so have the carriage waiting by the door tomorrow. And when we head to the office tomorrow, pack our things for England. I shall make the travel arrangements in the morning."

"Oui Mademoiselle." said Jean Claude as Antoinette stopped by a door in the upstairs hall. She turned to Erik and whispered with a smile,

"Good night Mousier. If there is anything you need, ring for Jean Claude."

"Sleep well, Miss Carone." said Erik. She gave him a playful smirk,

"That may prove to be difficult, sir...since I already had quite a long nap this evening!" Erik couldn't help but return the expression,

"Simply think pleasant thoughts Mam'selle."

"And you think pleasant thoughts as well, Mousier. Goodnight." she said closing the door.

"I will now..." he whispered trying to calm his beating heart. Then he heard the butler clear his throat knowingly.

"This way sir." said Jean Claude leading Erik down the hall. Soon Erik was in his room alone, his bags in the corner. He took off his cloak, then his jacket, then his vest and shirt. He unlaced his boots and pulled them off as he sat on the bed. Finally, he took off his leather mask and rubbed his face. He began to think about that night. Specifically, about Mademoiselle Antoinette Carone.

She was lovely, no doubt. Her short, curvy frame, perfectly proportioned. Her thick mass of brown hair flowing down her back in waves. Her blue eyes shown with intelligence, her smile full of flirtatious mischief. Not even Christine captured his interest this much. She had merely been a trophy for him. But what was Mlle. Carone to him? Then he caught his reflection in the mirror and instantly turned away in disgust. Even if he knew exactly what Antoinette was doing to him, she would never have anything to do with him...if she knew who he really was...

"A monster..." he whispered sadly holding his head in his hands.


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning, Antoinette woke from pleasant dreams. Even a scandalous one involving a certain masked gentleman down the hall. Shaking off her silly fancies, she dressed in a crisp white blouse and black skirt with a bustle in the back. Her mother's golden locket peeked out from under her collar as she exited the room patting her hair done up in a neat braid. That was when she noticed Jean Claude huffing and puffing in agitation in the hallway just outside Erik's room.

"Jean Claude? Is something amiss?"

"Oui Mademoiselle. I woke your guest this morning, but he barked at me to get out. I refused him politely telling him of your orders to draw him a bath. He permitted me this, but when I went to his bags to help him choose some attire for today, he shoved me out the room saying my duty had been fulfilled! Really Miss, before you came up to me, I had half a mind to go in there again and show him what I learned in the French Army!"

"I understand your frustration, Jean Claude, but you must be patient with our guest. He is used to living alone and doing everything for himself. Having a valet is not even a thought he entertains." said Antoinette folding her hands before her. Jean Claude gave a grunt of indignation and told her,

"If it is not to bold to say Miss, the way he was eyeing you last night, I suspect he shall be more reasonable under your influence!" Surprised at this observations by the old man, Antoinette smiled and nodded,

"I shall talk to him. See to your other duties, Jean Claude." Before he could bow, take his leave or say, 'Oui Mademoiselle', Antoinette knocked on Erik's door and called out,

"Mousier? May I come in?" There was silence a moment. She wasn't sure he had heard her until his soft baritone called out almost in surrender,

"Come in." Upon opening the door, she was surprised at her feet kicking at a discarded pair of pants. The rest of his room looked quite the same with strewn about shirts, waistcoats, vests and pants all over. But it was the sight of him coming from the private bath, clad only in a towel around his broad shoulders and breeches did she gasp and blush. Propriety demanded she turn her face from him, but her own nature of mischief crept in as a smile danced on her lips as she said,

"Sir, you should not have called me to enter if you were not descent."

"Why not?" he asked her. Knowing her sainted mother and grandmother were turning in their graves, she dared to look aside at him, but she saw only general confusion in his eyes. He had been more sheltered from society than she thought.

"A woman should not see a man in any state of undress less they be married." she told him.

"Why?" he asked again shaking his head.

"Surely you know what it would imply?" she asked.

"That we are two lovers used to seeing each other in states of undress? Why would it imply that if we are not in love?" he asked with a shrug. It struck her just then that the masked man who stood before her was caught somewhere between an ignorant boy who knew nothing of the demands of proper society, and a deliciously full grown man who knew a little too well what could happen between a man and a woman given the opportunity.

Rather than try to explain to him proper etiquette, she searched for something else to say, but she became distracted at the sight of him waiting for her to say something. He held the towel around his neck in both hands, his biceps bulging. His broad shoulders tapered into a well-defined chest covered with just a line of hair in the center that led down to a flat stomach the maid could wash clothes on. Upon noticing how much she was staring at him, Erik grew uncomfortable and prompted,

"Well?" But she had seen the blush in the half of his face not covered. She smiled and shook her head. The boy in him was confused and not understanding why she was admiring the man in him. He had no clue how attractive he was. Perhaps it had something to do with whatever lay beneath that curious mask he always wore? Before she had merely concluded it was merely to cover up a scar or something. Now she wondered if it prevented Erik from seeing anything else about himself except for what was under the mask. She decided to give him a hint of her musings by saying with a wicked grin,

"Whenever a young lady is with a well-cut chap like yourself, rumors are born. And rumors can ruin a young lady. Now, we are sitting down to breakfast. I understand there should be a razor in the bathroom. I suppose you want to shave?"

"I do, but I can't." he said looking to the floor.

"Why not?" she asked.

"I used to go out every night and have a private barber shave me. But he died." said Erik.

"Well if you are more comfortable with someone else shaving you, I can send Jean Claude in to..."

"The barber shaved me in dim candlelight. He barely saw my face...NO ONE can ever see my face, Mademoiselle." Erik stressed to her. Now more curious than ever to what lay underneath that white leather, she asked softly having an idea of the answer,

"And why can't you just shave yourself?" The boy in him returned and he kicked his toes into the carpet as he admitted embarrassingly,

"I don't know how..." She nodded, her mouth forming an 'O' as she said,

"I'll see what I can do..." Giving his Adonis form the once over just once more, she left and went down the stairs to join her employers in the dining room for breakfast. Andre was practically attacking his eggs as he chopped them up on his plate, while Firmin only nibbled on his toast occasionally while scouring the morning papers. Andre stood at her entrance, only to poke Firmin to do the same a second later as he said cheerfully,

"Bon jour Mademoiselle. Did you sleep any?"

"Very well Mousier." she said going to her seat as Andre pulled out her chair for her and Firmin sat down taking up the newspaper again saying,

"I can imagine so after such a late night!" Andre leaned towards her as if sharing a bit of gossip,

"I for one, could hardly close my eyes. The excitement of having the infamous Phantom in the same house, discovering a few of his secrets; I find it all very thrilling!" She furrowed her brow,

"The infamous Phantom? Is that the only name you knew him by?"

"There was also "Opera Ghost" or "O.G." And once or twice as "the Angel of Music"!" answered Firmin with sarcasm lacing his tone.

"Mousiers, I must know. What is this man, who you claim to be brilliant beyond understanding, doing living under the Opera House pretending to be a specter?" she asked. The two men exchanged dubious glances before Andre answered,

"Since we know him a bit now, I say you must ask him. I will say those involved came to realize that he was in a way a victim of society."

"Does the answer lie beneath his mask?" asked Antoinette.

"It does." admitted Andre.

"You've both seen his face then?" she asked.

"I warn you Antoinette. Don't ask about it." said Andre with seriousness. Antoinette nodded and allowed herself to be served by Jean Claude, who asked,

"Will Mousier Erik be coming down for breakfast soon, Mademoiselle?"

"Yes, where is our old friend? Building another booby trap?" asked Firmin dryly shuffling the papers.

"Actually sir, he is still dressing. And he is having problems with his morning toilet." she said tactfully.

"Oh? Such as?" asked Andre.

"He won't permit anyone to shave him, Mousier." she told him.

"Well, can't he do it himself?" laughed Andre.

"He doesn't know how, sir." said Antoinette. Firmin looked at her,

"That's ridiculous! How can a thirty-year-old man not know how to shave?" She folded her hands on the table and leaned forward,

"Mousier, who taught you how to shave?"

"Well my father of..." Then Firmin looked to his secretary and then his partner catching on to what she was implying.

"Oh..." he said sheepishly. Then he made a decision and folded the paper on the table before standing and exiting saying,

"Well, this changes now." A few minutes later, Erik opened the door that someone had knocked on to find Firmin on the other side.

"What do you want?" he asked suspiciously.

"Mlle. Carone tells me you were never taught how to shave?" asked Firmin. Erik sighed and stepped aside gesturing for him to come in.

"Thank you. Hmm...having difficulty finding something to wear?" asked Firmin looking to the mess around him. Erik closed the door,

"Mlle. Carone tells me we are to go to your office this morning. Can't hardly expect to make such an open appearance in public looking like a pauper, can I?" Firmin took a guess,

"Or perhaps impress a certain young secretary...?" Erik eyed him,

"What are you suggesting Mousier?" Firmin shook his head,

"Nothing, not a thing. It just seems curious to me that a man who claimed to only love one woman for the rest of his days wouldn't try to take such pride in his appearance around another...that's all."

"I'm taking pride in my appearance so I won't be recognized by any policeman on their patrol. Not to impress any beautiful assistants!" snapped Erik glaring at the older man. Firmin only smiled at Erik's unknown slip and said,

"In that case you'd better shave before you are picked up for being a vagabond. But first, you'll have to take off that mask..." Erik hesitated and then raised his hand to slip the mask off. Firmin stiffened but said,

"Come. Time to teach you something every man should know." M. Firmin took Erik into the bath and helped him lather up his face. He showed Erik how to sharpen the blade, and the proper way to hold it. Then he stood by his side showing him how to take cautious strokes first against his Adam's apple, then along his neck, around the chin, on the upper lip and finally on the sides. Erik only nicked himself twice and stood in amazement at his familiar features as he wiped his face off with a towel. Firmin was picking up clothes in the other room and throwing them off the bed when he asked,

"So why couldn't you use all that money you got out of the managers to buy a new wardrobe?"

"I never used that money for clothes. I would take extra fabric from the seamstresses and make my own clothes." answered Erik.

"I wondered why their budget was so huge..." muttered Firmin in his dry tone as he put a chair in the center of the room. Erik came out wiping his hands,

"After the fire, I had to make due with what I had. Couldn't risk going out just then. And even when I could take the risk, the banker I dealt with froze my account demanding I wait until the Opera Ghost was mere legend. So I wore my clothes to rags. I guess I also fell out of step with the current fashions."

"Sit down. How did you keep up before?" asked Firmin as Erik sat.

"Mostly copied the regular Opera goers, the patrons...the stuff shirt managers..." said Erik with a sly half smirk as Firmin bristled. He went on to say,

"I blended those styles with what the costumer thought up for each production and I found my taste. What are you doing?"

"I come from a poor family of six brothers. We had to learn how to cut each other's hair. You could stand a trim yourself. If I may?" said Firmin holding up the scissors. Erik sighed looking ahead,

"You've already meddled enough this morning...so why not?" Firmin began to cut the long locks and silence fell between them before Firmin asked unsurely,

"So...do you mind if I ask how you came to...look the way you do?"

"If you are expecting some grand tale, you'll be disappointed. I was born this way. A mask was my first piece of clothing." said Erik bitterly.

"Speaking of clothing, I'd thought we'd stop by a tailor and pick up some new clothes for you. And do you want to go to a wig maker as well?" asked Firmin putting the scissors aside and brushing some stray hair off Erik's neck with the towel.

"You want to spend money on me?" asked Erik looking at the hair that now fell past his ears in the mirror.

"Just consider it part of your reward for helping us." said Firmin preparing to leave.

"I still get an equal cut, Firmin!" warned Erik picking up his mask. Firmin twitched his mustache and then snapped his fingers and dug through his pockets.

"Oh! Almost forgot. Found this in the attic for you." he said taking out a small black patch of cloth tied on a string. Erik took it and asked,

"An eye patch?"

"My ex-wife went as a pirate wench to a masque once. I'd thought that be less conspicuous than your mask." said Firmin. Erik asked as if Firmin was a fool,

"Why should you hang on to old costumes from a masque?" Firmin took one remaining outfit from Erik's trunk and threw it on the bed. It was the last suit next to the one Erik wore that still looked new. It was a blood red velvet with a long cape.

"Why indeed." said Firmin before making his exit. Erik picked up the old costume and was instantly reminded of a glittering night where he appeared as Red Death. An image of a beautiful innocent creature with wild chestnut locks and large brown eyes in a vision of pink came before him. He had yanked the ring she wore on a chain off and hissed at her,

"_Your chains are still mine! You belong to me!" _ Looking back, he remembered her look of curious longing was quickly replaced with fear as he had towered over her. Of all the sins he had committed, that one thing he regretted most. It hit him with an amazing clarity that he had suspected was beginning to build up after five years. He had never truly loved Christine. He had been in love with the idea of love. Even when she had kissed him, he felt he didn't enjoy it as much as he should have. He had cried and let go as a reaction purely out of realizing she could never love him. Now he wondered if he was even meant to love. His mind told him that with his face it'd never happen, but his heart kept asking why he kept wanting it to happen if he wasn't meant to? He threw on his jacket and sighed, then put on the eye patch Firmin gave him. It looked alright on him. It was a little large, so it covered almost all of his deformity anyway. He sighed again and went downstairs. Time to join humanity.

Although Antoinette was quite put out with having to stop at a tailor shop for a few hours, she did relish the experience of helping refurbish the mysterious Erik's wardrobe. The place they went to, was not a traditional tailor. M. Pontiblu had the novel idea that clothes should be made in a certain size before hand, so they are ready for the customer to wear. No one of Parisian society expected it to really catch on, but it was convenient and novel to go to his shop. Although he tried not to show it, Erik was lost when it came to dealing with people he didn't know. Antoinette had seen it the moment M. Pontiblu greeted them at the door. When Firmin explained the situation, M. Pontiblu took a reluctant Erik by the arm and eagerly pulled him into the dressing room saying,

"My oh my! Darling what an absolute joy! We don't often fit such well proportioned and tall fellows like yourself! You are every tailor's dream, Darling!"

The three of them sat in the salon waiting for Erik to come out. M. Pontiblu came out and asked excitingly,

"My oh My! What a shy young man! Tell me, do the ladies just love him during the Season?" Antoinette stiffed a giggle with her hand, as Andre answered carefully,

"Uh...actually...he's never had a proper debut..." M. Pontiblu gasped in exaggeration, putting a hand to his chest,

"Horrors! You must let me take him to Madame Jacquard's high tea next week! I dare say none of the young debutantes have had a decent looking suitor available to them in ages!"

"I'm sorry M. Pontiblu, but Mousier Erik is to accompany us to England for a case." apologized Antoinette.

"You think him handsome, Pontiblu?" asked Firmin.

"Well, he's a little rough around the edges, but overall he's a very appealing figure of a man. Tell me, the scarring peeking out on his fore head, was that from a war or something? Because a war hero would make him all the more dashing to willing young ladies." asked Pontiblu. Firmin and Andre quickly said at once,

"HuntingaccidentRapiddog" Then they looked at each other as Andre cleared his throat and said to cover up,

"Yes... a tragedy really. One of the hounds turned rapid and attacked him during a fox hunt!"

"Horrors! Well at least he still looks handsome. And that eye patch! It makes him look so...acceptingly dangerous!" said Pontiblu. Antoinette smiled to herself. She had to admit when Erik finally arrived just in time to make a quick breakfast of toast and bacon, she had found the eye patch enticing on him. And when they stopped at the wig makers earlier, and he had chosen a simple black wig to cover his hair and receding hairline on the right; she found herself entertaining devilish fantasies that would make a Lady of the Night blush.

"Acceptingly dangerous, Mousier?" she asked with an amused grin. He looked at her and said,

"You know my dear. Just honorable to be accepted into society but sinfully good looking enough to make him dangerous to all Dowager mothers who wish their daughters to marry men who would never attract a mistress or two!" Antoinette joined in his feminine laughter, when Erik stepped out dressed in a dark chocolate suit and deep cream shirt. Antoinette smiled at his obvious blushing, and the thought that he looked good enough to eat, while Firmin acknowledged,

"Not bad, Ol'boy."

"Very handsome." she said seeing him take on a confused look. Pontiblu smiled slowly at Antoinette,

"My oh my! Those ladies of society may have to get in line behind Mlle. Toni Carone!"

"Go on Erik, change into something else!" said Andre as Erik unsurely went back into the dressing rooms. Seven day suits, two tuxedos, three cloaks and twenty jewel tone shirts later, Erik finally came out in a smart violet waistcoat over a white shirt, a plum cravat and brown pants with a dark brown leather overcoat over that. He handed the old clothes he came in with to Antoinette as Firmin wrote out a check. Erik whispered,

"That was an experience I'd rather forget!" Amused she asked,

"Why? Don't you feel better having new clothes?"

"It was that Pontiblu! If he weren't a man, I'd swear he was flirting with me!" hissed Erik. She laughed softly,

"He WAS flirting with you. I'm surprised that a man who lived in a theater of all places never heard or saw two men shall we say, becoming more than friends?" Erik furrowed his brow in thought,

"Now that I think of it, I did see more than my share of ballet rats share the same bed in compromising positions."

"Erik! How scandalous to watch young ladies while sleeping!" she scolded. But he heard the teasing lilt to her voice.

"I was simply making sure they were in their beds and not snooping about my opera late at night so that I could roam freely." he said with a betraying smile.

"Yeah right!" she said dryly before giving her instructions to M. Pontiblu to have the rest of the clothes delivered to their house and give a note of her instructions to Jean Claude. They left Pontiblu's and decided to walk the remaining three blocks. That was when Erik began to catch passing young women giving him, not Firmin, not Andre, but HIM, lingering glances followed or accompanied by a smile and a giggle. He asked Andre,

"What are they staring at?" Andre chuckled,

"You Mousier. It would appear in your current state of dress, you are quite pleasant to the female eye!"

"M. Pontiblu certainly thought so. I recall him calling you decent looking, handsome, appealing and acceptingly dangerous! And he thought you'd be the catch of the year for young debutants." said Firmin with a grin.

"Me?" asked Erik skeptically.

"Well of course Erik! And speaking as a female, I must admit I agree with him. You do present a dashing figure any girl would swoon over." said Antoinette on his arm. The muscles in his neck twitched and he said forcefully,

"If they knew what was under this silly eye patch they wouldn't."

"Actually, Pontiblu has an idea. He thinks you were mauled by hunting hounds." said Firmin.

"And where did he assume such a thing I wonder?" asked Erik dryly looking over the two of them.

"We had to tell him something!" said Andre. Erik sighed,

"I'm just not used to the attention I suppose."

"Well get use to it. For I have a feeling we may have to fight off dowagers and their wedding minded daughters with sticks for the next few weeks!" said Firmin leading them inside a large limestone office building. Erik stopped Antoinette on the stairs and asked,

"Mlle. Carone, I heard M. Pontiblu call you 'Toni'. Why did he do that?"

"Ever since I started working for M. Andre and M. Firmin, he's tried to groom me to be a proper debutant. He likes to do that. That's the other reason he was so exited about dressing you today. He has a mind to take you under his wing as well! Anyway, I've grown familiar enough with him to count him as a casual friend. And I allow all my friends call me 'Toni'. A simple matter." she told him.

"But Andre and Firmin don't and you live in their house."

"Well I work for them, Mousier. It's hardly proper for them to call me by my Christian name less my nickname." she said as if it were obvious. He looked at his feet and said,

"I don't know why, but I feel as if I want to call you 'Toni'. " For the first time in her short acquaintance with the man, she truly allowed a blush to crept into her smiling cheeks. She turned to walk inside saying,

"We shall see Mousier. We shall see."

Andre and Firmin were waiting for them inside and that was when Erik was introduced to the invention called the elevator. A clever piece of engineering that took people up a few flights in a steel chamber worked by pulleys and levers. When they came to their floor, Antoinette had to pull Erik out of the elevator he was trying to inspect. Antoinette was instantly charmed at how quickly he went back and forth from the ignorant boy overflowing with curiosity and shyness to the rakish man who knew his way around flattery. They came to a door painted with '_Andre and Firmin Investigations' _on it. Erik quirked a brow as Firmin unlocked the door and lead them into the simple pair of rooms. One with a small desk for Antoinette and a couch for waiting clients, and then the office with two sets of desks facing each other. Some newspapers were strew about with old headlines in the society column describing the pair's exposure of such public scandals as blackmail, adultery and embezzling. Erik would never admit it but he was impressed they had done this well. But as they went about their morning routine, the partners reading their mail and Antoinette sending out messengers to arrange their trip to England, Erik read how their methods consisted mainly of party gossip sewn together until they formed the facts. Not true detective work as of yet. However, he was certain that would change with his influence. Finally, they finished their tasks and Firmin rubbed his hands together saying,

"Right then! Let's review the case once more, so we can start putting our heads together aye?"

"Right! Mlle. Carone! The Lord's letter please!" said Andre getting up and calling Antoinette from the other room.

"Oui Mousier!" she said pulling the items out of her purse. She entered and laid them on the table to which the three men bent over. Firmin picked up the letter and said,

"First the Lord's letter. He writes,

'_Mousiers, _

_On the sixteenth day of June of this current year, my head gardener, John Canter died while tending to the flower beds on the east side of my family manor. He was eighty years old, so to die of natural causes is no great surprise. But what puzzled me and scared the wits out of my staff and wife, was the fact he was found enclosed in a circle of flames. The local constable did investigate the matter, but dropped the case as soon as the coroner determined John's heart just stopped. I am lost without any light Mousiers. I have heard of your recent successes in Paris and I wish to commission you to come to my home, Dogwood Grove and find whoever is responsible for this tomfoolery. Money is no object._

_Sincerely, _

_Lord Charles Wittingham Bowler the III_

_P.S. I have enclosed the photographs the local constable had taken during the investigation._

When Firmin finished reading, Erik looked at the photographs and said,

"Curious."

"What is?" asked Andre.

"Why would the local authorities give crime scene photographs to the victim? Wouldn't they keep it as part of their records?" asked Erik.

"This came from a small village in county Sussex. Small towns are bound to be a little more loose as far as legalities. You heard how the constable didn't even try to find any hint of foul play!" said Firmin.

"True, but still something is not right about that. First thing we want to do is make a list of which we wish to interview. Who found the body? Was this fire ring there when they found it? Did Canter have any enemies?" rattled off Erik.

"Mlle. Carone, start your shorthand!" ordered Firmin paying close attention.

"And you might also wish to ask where they got kerosene from. Can't be too many uses for it in the country." said Antoinette.

"What about what we see in these?" asked Andre holding up the photographs of multiple angles of the dead body. Erik shook his head,

"The flame wasn't burning when this was taken so we can't determine that much just by looking at this. And this letter was written over a month ago so the scorch marks may not even be there!"

"What about looking at the clothes he was wearing at the time of his death? Surely they would have some kerosene splashes or smoke residue on them." said Antoinette. Erik looked her in the eye,

"You do love a good mystery don't you?" She smiled as Firmin said,

"But what was the motive? Why make a natural death, look like a murder?"

"As a warning to his Lordship perhaps. Someone who wants the household to leave so they could get a hold of the house or something on the land. We won't know anything until we get there." said Erik. Then came a knock on the door, which Antoinette went to answer saying,

"It must be the tickets arriving!" But she was disappointed to see a short, plump old woman with amber hair and black mourning clothes barge in and say,

"Are the detectives in, Mam'selle?"

"Oh God in heaven!" said Firmin throwing his hands up in the air.

"Hide!" whispered Andre scrambling under his desk.

"Madame Richard, please. The gentlemen can't take your case!" said Antoinette pleading after the matron as she burst into the office.

"I'm telling you all, my late husband Roland is alive! I've seen him and I wish for you to find him!" she demanded. Firmin stepped forward,

"And we have told you, Madame. We looked into the matter and the county medical examiner, the police, and the priest who gave him his last rites all swore up and down that he was dead! Now, good day Madame. We are terribly busy!"

"I saw what I saw! Now you...hullo, who's this?' asked the widow upon seeing Erik. Firmin stammered,

"This? Oh this is Erik...our new...um...our new..."

"Assistant!" offered Antoinette.

"Yes, he assists us in our cases." said Firmin.

"Does he have a last name? It is not proper to address a man by his Christian name upon just meeting him!" said Madame Richard suspiciously.

"Certainly...it's uh..." said Firmin begging for help with his eyes to Antoinette over the widow's head. Erik spoke up,

"DuL'Soir." Antoinette smiled at his cleaver thinking,

"Yes...this is Mousier Erik DuL'Soir. Mousier DuL'Soir, this is Madame Josephine Richard."

"M. DuL'Soir. When I was a girl, it was considered very rude for a gentleman to sit on the furniture while ladies were standing!" Erik looked to Firmin who motioned for him to get off the desk. He did but not without replying,

"My apologies Madame. I suppose times have just changed since Cleopatra was in power!" A distinct thump was heard under Andre's desk, which raised off the ground two inches. Firmin and Antoinette just stared at Erik with their jaws to the floor as Madame Richard glared at the young man and said,

"Of all the impertinence! Good day M. Firmin!" Then she turned on her heel and stomped out of the office.

"And good riddens!" said Firmin still in shock.

"Bravo Erik! Well done!" said Antoinette crossing over to pat his forearm.

"Is it safe to come out?" called Andre still under the desk.

"Yes, you stupid fool!" said Firmin with a roll of his eyes and Antoinette laughed. As the morning progressed into making a list of questions to ask and of everything they could see in the photographs, Erik got this distinct feeling that so long as he was associated with these three, his life would very interesting.

That night, Erik's new clothes were packed in his bags, and the old ones were being used for kindling. All except the suit he had worn that morning, his old cape, and the Red Death costume. He never thought he was one for sentiment. But they were tucked into the trunk just the same. He couldn't sleep, so he went downstairs, hoping to find a book. What he found was Antoinette, in her dressing gown, looking out at the night sky on the living room terrace.

"Mam'selle?" asked Erik softly. She jumped a little, but smiled at him and wrapped her robe tighter about herself and whispered,

"Goodness Mousier. You certainly know how to creep in the shadows don't you?"

"You have no idea. What are you doing?" he said coming to join her. As he sat on the railing, she said,

"I love looking at the night sky. As a child I would make a wish on every star." He looked up and said,

"I would too when I could see it outside my cage."

"Cage? Erik, exactly what did those gypsies do to you?" she said in concern. He tensed and said,

"Nothing that matters now."

"It matters to you." she said. He got up and left saying,

"Goodnight Mlle. Carone." Antoinette sighed and resolved to find out what in Erik's past haunted him still.

The next day they got on the ship bound for England after a long morning on the roads to the coastline. M. Andre was seasick for most of the voyage and M. Firmin spent most of his time flirting with a young American widow. Antoinette spent most of her time trying to convince Erik to come out of his cabin. Why he preferred dark, damp places was beyond her. Finally, in the next few days, they found themselves bouncing along in a carriage set out for Sussex.

"If I never sail again, it should be too soon!" said Andre wiping his brow with his handkerchief. Firmin meanwhile, inhaled the perfumed calling card the American gave him and said,

"I found the trip quite pleasant! What about you Mam'selle?" Antoinette eyed Erik and said,

"It could have been better if I had more company!" Erik kept looking out of the window. Ever since the night she had asked him about his past, Erik was determined to keep their relationship professional. And when the case was solved, he'd part their company. At least that was what he was trying to tell himself while glancing out of the corner of his eye at the curves under her blue traveling dress. Soon the carriage slowed and turned a corner into a long drive. Out the window, Erik saw a stately stone manor, five stories high. When they pulled to a stop, a middle aged butler came from the house and greeted them upon getting stepping down from the carriage.

"Mousiers Firmin and Andre, I presume?" he asked.

"Yes, I am Firmin and this is my partner M. Andre. And these are our assistants, Mlle. Carone and M. DuL'Soir. Is his Lordship at home?" said Firmin whisking off his hat. The butler took on a sour expression and said,

"I'm not sure how to tell you this, Mousier...but his Lordship was murdered last night."


	3. Chapter 3

They were all stunned at first, but then Firmin burst into the house demanding,

"What happened?" As the others followed, they heard the butler say,

"He was found at the bottom of the stairs leading to the garden, Sir. I've sent a boy to fetch the constable."

"But what if he was connected?" asked Andre.

"Oh no sir! The lad delivers our milk from a neighboring farm. He is not of the household. I made sure no one left." said the butler leading the way through the house. Many servants, some with eyes red from crying, stopped and watched the newcomers on their way to their late employer. The butler continued,

"One of the upstairs maids, Lucy, found him when she went out this morning to hang the wash on the line sir. The garden is fairly close to the kitchens sir. She screamed and I was the first to respond. And that was when I saw him...like that!" He stopped in an entryway and pointed with a pale expression to a crumpled form at the bottom of about eight stone steps. Firmin and Andre froze solid, but Erik stepped forward and went down the stairs. The Lord had been a tall, well built man, with a robust complexion and a full head of silver hair, neatly trimmed and a handlebar mustache. Now he was pale and looking out blankly with unseeing brown eyes. He was dressed in his dressing gown and pajamas. On the ground ahead of him, was a half spent cigar. Then Erik looked out into the grounds and stepped over the body towards the grass. When Firmin and Andre would make no movement, Antoinette sighed, and picked up her skirts to go past them and over the body, following Erik.

"Uh...Erik? I don't know if you've noticed, but the murdered corpse is that way!" she said pointing back to the stone terrace. Erik looked around the grass and said,

"I'm trying to find where Canter was found."

"But what about the dead body?" asked Antoinette.

"He couldn't sleep. He went out into the garden to smoke. Someone came down the stairs and took advantage of the elevated position to blunt him with a heavy object." said Erik kneeling on the ground. Antoinette stared blankly at him.

"You deduced that after looking at the body two seconds?"

"The house smelled nothing of cigars, so her Ladyship must not allow smoking in the house. There are multiple cigar butts in the corners of the terrace. There's dirt clumps in the hall and a scratch on the hardwood. I bet that's from a shovel." said Erik still looking at the ground. Antoinette folded her arms,

"Why would someone keep a shovel in the house?"

"That's what we have to find out. Ah! Here's the circle. The grass is dead here still...hmm. Canter was nowhere near a flower bed, but that's where he must have been going. But why?" asked Erik stroking his chin with his thumb.

"Erik...he was a gardener." said Antoinette as if was obvious. Erik stood,

"But look at the flowers. They are perfectly healthy. Why tend to them?"

"Perhaps her Ladyship likes fresh flowers in her house." said Antoinette. Erik looked at her and quirked a brow,

"Petunias? Not likely. There are far too plain inside a vase. From passing the halls, I noticed the furbishing was of expensive taste." said Erik. Antoinette glanced back towards the terrace and said,

"Come on. We best get back to being assistants. Firmin and Andre finally worked up the nerve to come close to the body." Erik followed her back to see Firmin poking at the corpse with his cane while Andre looked like he was going to be sick.

"Haven't you ever dealt with a dead body before Mousiers?" asked the butler.

"Well yes...but..." started Firmin. Erik interrupted,

"But M. Firmin was too busy thinking of how the murderer hit his Lordship over the head with a shovel using the elevated position of the stairs behind him!"

"I was?" asked Firmin. Antoinette piped up,

"Of course you were sir." Firmin caught on,

"Right! Of course! Now Mousier I suppose the next thing to do would be...?" He snapped his fingers searching for an answer.

"Question the household." said Erik.

" Yes! Thank you Erik! Uh...Mousier?" asked Firmin to the butler.

"Thompkins, sir. And yes. I will gather everyone in the parlor at once." When the butler left, Andre said,

"Can we please go inside before I am to be ill?"

"Come now Andre. Surely you have seen enough dead bodies to give you an immunity to nausea?" said Erik with a dark smirk as he moved past them to go inside. Andre and Firmin got chills at the recollection of the past, while Antoinette merely wondered if Erik was proud of past misdeeds.

Minutes later, eight servants were in the parlor. Thompkins, plus three men stood. The women, all dresses as maids in white aprons and caps, sat down on the couches. One man was dresses as a gardener, the second a butler, the third as a stableman. One of the women was a robust, wide woman of advanced years, the other three were all maids, the pretty blond one in the middle sobbing profusely as the rest tried to comfort her. As always, Firmin took charge of the situation.

"Now that you are all together, we would like to ask you some questions..." Erik stepped forward and interrupted,

"But M. Firmin, didn't you say you wanted to interview everyone, separately?"

"I did?" asked Firmin. Andre caught on,

"Of course Firmin. To prevent anyone from creating an alibi for another!" The stableman spoke up in a gruff Scottish accent,

"As if we'd do that!"

"Indeed!" said Firmin.

"And Mousier, I must point out that not everyone is here. We have yet to meet her Ladyship." pointed out Antoinette.

"I am coming, Mam'selle." said a weak and refined voice. They turned to see a beautiful middle aged blond woman, her eyes red and swollen with tears come off the stairs and enter the parlor in mourning black.

"You will forgive me Mousiers for not greeting you upon your arrival, but circumstances being what they are, you can understand my delay. I am Lady Victoria Wittingham Bowler." she said. Andre stepped forward and took her hands in his,

"Enchante, Madame. We are most saddened by your lost. And that we could not have arrived sooner to prevent it. I am Giles Andre, my partner M. Michael Firmin and our assistants, Mlle. Carone and M. DuL'Soir."

"Thank you for your kind words, Mousier. And for taking such an interest in the matter still. Charles would have admired it." she said her strong voice cracking.

"Come Milady, do sit down." said Andre leading her over to a chair.

"Now then, here is what we shall do. What is the closest room?" asked Firmin.

"The library sir. Right through that door." said Thompkins pointing to his left.

"Very good. Andre, you stay in here. Erik, Mlle. Carone you shall accompany me to the library to interview everyone one at a time. Mam'selle I trust you've got your notebook handy?" asked Firmin.

"Ready to go sir." said Antoinette.

"Good. Thompkins, we'll start with you." said Firmin heading into the library.

"Certainly sir." he said right behind him with Antoinette following, leaving Erik to close the door behind them.

The series of questions asked started with this,

"Where were you last night?" Each responded, but with a different answer.

" Asleep in my bed sir." said Thompkins.

"I was talking with Miss Harould, one of the maids sir. We share a room. We were kept up by the noises coming from Mr. Grady's room." said a harsh looking woman.

"I was staying up late talking with my roommate Miss Wilcox." said Miss Harould.

"I was down at a pub in the village. Every bloak can vouch for me." said the Scotsman Mr. Grady.

"I was doing the dishes in the kitchen sir. Oh poor Lord Bowler! Poor, poor Lord Bowler! There never was a finer man!" sobbed the pretty blond main named Lucy.

"I was in the kitchen sir. Doing the dishes." said the second butler, a young man named Jefferson. To which Erik asked Jefferson,

"You were alone?"

"Yes sir." he nodded. The first question was put to Mrs. Bradley, the large cook who said,

"I was in my room knitting, Mousier. I was waiting for my daughter Lucy, we share a room. She came in rather late all short of breath and her hair messed up. She said she was working on the dishes, but I knew she was down there with that Jefferson cad! I know because the dishes were only half done this morning! I was also kept up by noises from Mr. Grady's room. Confound the man!" Finally, the question was put to the new head gardener, Tom Kelsey.

"Yes sir. I was down at the pub in the village sir, visiting my brother and sister in law. They run the place."

"Did you see Mr. Grady?" asked Erik speaking up again.

"No sir. And I was there all night. And you know when he's down at the pub because he's a wicked drunk sir. My brother has to throw him out every week!"

The next question they asked each person separately was,

"Did you notice anything unusual about his Lordship last night?"

"No sir. He was in a fairly pleasant mood as I recall. I remember it plainly, for I remember thinking Her Ladyship was quite ill, the exact opposite of him." said Thompkins.

"The Master was very kind last night. First time he's been that way in a couple of days." said Miss Wilcox.

"Oh, he was nice last night. A regular charmer! Apparently, he had just received some happy news in the post, according to Mr. Grady anyway." said Miss Harould.

"I wouldn't know his mood last night. I was at the pub." said Grady.

"He has been in a dark mood since poor Mr. Canter passed. But he was in such good spirits last night! Oh! What a awful thing! To die when you are in a happy mood! And after we just lost Mr. Canter." sobbed Lucy as Firmin handed her his handkerchief.

" He was sour up until Grady came back with the post. I remember it because I was washing the windows at the time. Then he was right chipper." said Jefferson. Antoinette paused and asked,

"Before you did the dishes?"

"Yes Miss." he said. Mrs. Bradley responded to the question by saying,

"The Master was quite happy sir. He praised my cooking. Her Ladyship didn't eat much, but he ate enough for the both of them. Lord! If I had known that was his last meal..."

"Well, I don't remember his mood but I remember her Ladyship's. She was rather cross all day. She kept snapping at me about the roses. She wanted them tending to." said Tom.

"Where were you when his Lordship was found?"

"I was polishing the silver in the dining room with Miss Wilcox. We heard Miss Lucy scream and I ran out and found her pointing to the body." said Thompkins.

"I was polishing silver in the dining room with Mr. Thompkins. He was lecturing me on the proper technique and whatnot, when I heard Lucy scream. I stood and then Thompkins called me to fetch Lucy. She was in fit of hysterics, she was." said Miss Wilcox.

"I was helping Mrs. Bradley fix breakfast, when we heard Lucy scream. Mrs. Bradley called for her, then we saw Thompkins pass by in the hall. Then Miss Wilcox was called and she brought Lucy in the kitchen. Lucy was hiccupping and coughing, making herself sick. She rushed into her mother's arms and we've spent the better part of the day calming her down." said Miss Harould.

"I was in the stables when I heard Lucy scream. The boy who delivers the milk had just arrived, and Jefferson came out and told him to fetch the constable." said Grady.

"I came from the kitchens to hang the wash...I dropped the basket as soon as I saw him. The look...the look on his face...I knew he was dead!" sobbed Lucy as Antoinette stopped her shorthand to come over and comfort her. Jefferson responded by telling them,

"I was upstairs, picking out the Master's suit in his bedchambers sir. He was to go hunting today sir. I was just coming out from the master's room to get some shoe polish, when Her Ladyship came from her bedroom. She asked me if the Master was up yet when we heard Miss Lucy scream. Then her Ladyship fainted in my arms. Tom was coming out of his room and he rushed to help me when Thompkins called me. I ran down and saw Lord Bowler at the bottom of the garden steps, Lucy getting sick in the kitchen with the women all about her. Thompkins told me to get someone to fetch the constable. I found the boy from the farm over at our door bringing the milk. I told him and he was off."

"I was in the kitchens and then Lucy screamed. I...I haven't been able to walk much since I took a spill last fall. I couldn't run to her. Last thing I recall clearly was Miss Wilcox shoving her in my arms." said Mrs. Bradley .

"Admitting, I had a bit of a row with my brother last night so I was sleeping in a bit to get over it. When I dressed and came out, I heard a scream and then saw Her Ladyship faint in Jefferson's arms. I rushed to help her, and then Thompkins called Jefferson, so I picked her up and carried her back in her room so she could lie down." said Tom.

"Do you know why she fainted?" asked Erik.

"Miss Lucy can scream loud enough to wake the dead. Probably gave her a fright after the business of Mr. Canter and all." answered Tom. Then they were all asked,

"Did anyone in the house have reason to kill Lord Bowler?"

"As far as I know, no one in the house sir. Despite his debt, the master always paid us a fair wage on time, he was of good temperament and was on agreeable terms with everyone except Mr. Grady. Mr. Grady doesn't have the proper attitude when it comes to servitude. No respect for the higher classes at all, sir. They were always going at it." answered Thompkins. Everyone else said basically the same thing, except for Grady who surprisingly answered,

"Aye there would be a few. Her Ladyship first thing. They haven't shared a room in the past six months so you've got to figure they were on the outs. Then Miss Lucy and Mister Jefferson."

"Those two?" asked Firmin with his hands behind his back.

"Aye. See...they've been having...an intrigue if you will for months now. His former Lordship wouldn't let them get married. I'd say they might resent him for that."

"And what of you? I understand you didn't get along with his Lordship at all." said Erik. Grady glared at him,

"I didn't kill him! And I don't need some defected dandy Frog telling me I did!" Erik stood and heavens, if looks could kill just as easily as a Punjab lasso. Grady stood and matched his stare, to which Firmin stood between them and said,

"Gentlemen! I will only tell you once to sit down!" When Lucy was presented with Mr. Grady's accusation of a possible motive, she cried out with red eyes,

"Yes! Yes, Billy and I do want to marry! But you don't understand! You don't understand!" They didn't get much more out of Lucy, so they asked Jefferson and he continued with a sigh,

"Alright...I admit I was a little put off when Lord Bowler told us he wouldn't let us go get married. But he had a good reason and that was because of this whole Canter business. He wanted to make sure we'd be around for the honeymoon!" Finally, everyone was asked,

"What can you tell us of John Canter's death?"

"I was tending to my duties sir. Her Ladyship was having a tea that afternoon, so all the maids and Mrs. Bradley were in the kitchen. I was setting up chairs with Jefferson in the parlor. Lady Bowler was with us, telling us where to put the tables, as his Lordship came in ready to go off riding so he wouldn't have to be in the way. Then Tom ran in and told us there was a fire in the garden. All the men, including his Lordship came out, joined by Mr. Grady running around the corner of the house a second later. He had been tending to his Lordship's horse. We put out the fire, and found Mr. Canter dead in the center of that perfect smoldering ring of fire. At first we thought someone had clubbed him, and then suffocated him with smoke, but the coroner confirmed it was his heart and his lungs had no smoke in them. That was when Lord Bowler sent for you and your company Mousier." Thompkins told them, which the rest of the staff confirmed. They specifically asked Tom Kelsey,

"So you first found Canter?"

"Yes sir. He had told me to work on the west shrubbery on the other side of the house. I remember him sweating a lot and looking pale, and it wasn't even the middle of the day yet. I guess he was starting to go then. Next thing I know, I smell smoke. I run over and see the flames, then I rush inside to get help. Tis a shame sir. Was just about to retire and go live with his sister and his nephew he was. They live in the village up the road. A mighty shame. That's all I know sir." The last question put to them was,

"What was John Canter like?"

"A hard worker."

"A cheapskate."

"Penny pincher!"

"An old fool, like everyone else around here!" huffed Grady.

"A nice man!" said Lucy blowing her nose in the soaked handkerchief, she then tried to give back to Firmin who smiled and then said,

"Keep it!"

"Funny. He was always cracking jokes."

"Loyal. Worked here for seventy years and through three generations of Bowlers!" nodded Mrs. Bradley.

"Mr. Grady might have been the only person he didn't like. He thought him a rude little prick...beg your pardon, Miss! But yes sir, John Canter was a good sort who never met a stranger!" Tom told them. Firmin nodded and gestured for the young man to leave saying,

"Thank you sir. You have been most helpful!" When Tom had gone, Firmin asked Erik,

"So what do you think?" Erik rubbed the bridge of his nose,

"Three people lied to us. Grady, Lucy and Jefferson. Lucy and Jefferson lied about being alone in the kitchen last night, and Grady lied about being in the pub since Tom and Jefferson confirmed he was still at the house last night. Anyone could have been out of their rooms, but those three had the motive to kill him. Them and her Ladyship of course."

"Lady Bowler?" asked Firmin.

"Firmin, before your marriage ended, did Madame Firmin share the same room with you?" asked Erik. Firmin brightened,

"Ah! I see your point. They had martial discord!" Antoinette interrupted,

"And the servants said the Lord was in a good mood after the post arrived. And since her Ladyship seemed ill, His Lordship may have been holding something incriminating over her head!"

"Right, but don't forget. On the day of Canter's death, the only two not accounted for in the house, was Tom and Grady." said Erik.

"Sounds like to me, Grady is our man then!" said Firmin. Erik scowled and looked out the window,

"As much as I would like it to be...I don't think it is. It is far too obvious a choice."

"But Erik, he had the temperament, he didn't get along with Canter or Bowler, he had no solid alibis either occasion and..." said Antoinette. Erik interrupted her,

"And we still can't leave out Jefferson and Lucy, or Her Lady ship until we get some hard evidence. And I would love to get my hands on that post Lord Bowler got. Don't get me wrong, I believe Grady is involved somehow, but I don't think he's the killer."

"Ok, so we still need to find out where the kerosene came from, what was in the post, confirm Tom Kelsey's story, where and what Lucy and Jefferson were really doing and if Lady Bowler hated her husband enough to kill him." said Antoinette.

"Should be fairly simple!" joked Erik dryly.

"Yes...where the devil is Andre? He was suppose to bring her Ladyship in..." But Firmin was interrupted when Andre came in and said,

"The constable is here with the undertaker and the coroner!" The three reentered the parlor to find a short, middle aged man with a bald head lick his fingers at the cucumber sandwiches Mrs. Bradley had prepared as he stood over Lady Bowler. He said as the coroner and the undertaker took the body out together on a stretcher,

"Don't worry Ma'am. These things work out in time." Lady Bowler pointed to Firmin, and said,

"Constable Bowers, this is Mousier Andre's partner M. Firmin and their assistants..."

"Yes, yes...and I'm told you've interviewed the servants already. We'll I see no reason to interview them again, so if you could just give me your notes, I can read them over myself." said Bowers.

"But we did all the work! Now you presume to stand there and take all..." started Erik glaring at the man. Antoinette touched his arm as Andre gave him a pointed look,

"M. DuL'Soir, that'll do! Now, Miss Carone, hand over your notes to the constable. We make it a point to cooperate with the authorities!" Antoinette sighed, ripped the notepaper out and handed it to Bowers as Erik asked,

"So what did your coroner find?"

"He was hit on the head dead. Anyone can see that!" laughed Bowers.

"Even you!" smirked Erik. Bowers bristled so much, even his mustache spread. He turned to Lady Bowler and said,

"Now Missus, I just need to ask you some questions. Did your husband have any enemies?"

"No." she said.

"What about kin who wanted the family fortune?" asked Bowers.

"No, he was the last in line." said Lady Bowler.

"Any mistresses he had on the side?" he asked as she began to sob,

"NO!"

"And what about you? Were you faithful to him?" asked Bowers bluntly.

"Now see here! Can't you be a little more patient? The woman just lost her husband!" protested Andre as Lady Bowler fought with her handkerchief against the tears.

"Aye! Leave her be!" said Grady to which Erik raised a brow.

"No...no I'm quite alright...No, Constable...I didn't have an affair." she said her pride and dignity returning.

"What about sleeping in separate bedrooms?" asked Erik.

"I beg your pardon?" asked Lady Bowler looking to the strange young assistant.

"This is my interview, sir!" said Bowers to which Erik ignored him and stepped towards Lady Bowler and said,

"You and his Lordship have been in separate bedrooms for the past six months. Something must have gone wrong."

"Yes Mousier. Charles began to snore! I couldn't earn a wink of sleep until I moved into the rooms next door. Now please...I'm tired...I must go lie down. Can we continue this later?" asked Lady Bowler standing.

"I'll come back later Ma'am." said Bowers.

"Thompkins, show Constable Bowers out. Jefferson, Miss Wilcox, show our quests to their rooms. Everyone else, tend to your duties." said Lady Bowler exiting. As Bowers was shown out, and the servants left, Firmin sighed towards Erik's direction,

"You couldn't leave well enough alone, could you? Bowers WAS getting information out of her!"

"I apologize. I grew impatient. Bowers has no idea what he's doing!" said Erik.

"Well we all can see that!" said Andre.

"So what do we do now?" asked Antoinette. Erik sighed,

"I suggest we go gather our thoughts in our rooms." He walked out, his mind reeling with all the information he had heard in the last few hours.


	4. Chapter 4

That night, the household retired early. Antoinette was dressing for bed, brushing her long locks, when a thought occurred to her. She put down her brush and went to her door, only to jump in surprise at Lucy placing a plate of sandwiches at her feet.

"Oh Miss! I thought you were still up!" said Lucy standing.

"Uh, Lucy? What's all this?" asked Antoinette pointing to the platter. Lucy smiled shyly,

"Well Miss, if it's not too bold to say, I noticed that Mister Erik couldn't stop looking at you at supper. So I took the liberty of fixing him some sandwiches."

"If the sandwiches are for him, why don't you leave them by his door?" asked Antoinette still confused.

"Oh no Miss! You don't understand! I guess I thought this was a common custom!" said Lucy.

"What is? Heavens Lucy!" laughed Antoinette. Lucy looked around the halls and then whispered to Antoinette,

"Well in England Miss...if a gentleman looks at a lady like Mister Erik looks at you, then the lady leaves out sandwiches by her door so he can know she wants him to...well you know!" Antoinette dropped her jaw and said,

"You can't be serious!"

"It's a fairly common practice Miss! We've had dozens of quests over the years with empty platters outside their doors in the morning! The sandwiches are common courtesy for the gentleman callers." Lucy told her.

"Lucy. I don't care if that is the way things are done in England! M. DuL'Soir and I are from France! We have no such custom! "

"Sorry Miss." said Lucy lowering her gaze. Antoinette softened,

"I don't mean to snap at you, dear. Say, Lucy...would you like to know something about M. DuL'Soir and I in confidence in exchange for a piece of information?"

"Like what Miss?"

"Like...what you and Mr. Jefferson were doing together last night?" Antoinette asked. Lucy hung her head,

"Alright...we...were on the front porch last night kissing! We didn't get to bed until three in the morning. We even saw his Lordship coming down the stairs getting his cigar ready...oh if I had known that would be the last time I saw him Miss! And then Miss Harould caught us while on her way to get a drink of water! We were so embarrassed we swore her to secrecy! She's always favored our coming together anyway, though. And poor Lord Bowler! He gave us a wink! Poor man! Please don't tell my mother Miss! She doesn't care much for Billy!"

"You're secret is safe with me! And per our agreement, I will say that...If I weren't such the proper lady I am...And if M. DuL'Soir had any idea...I would let you keep that platter where it is! Now take these sandwiches away right now! And don't take this the wrong way, but could you ask M. DuL'Soir to come talk to me? Outside my door?" Antoinette told her. Lucy curtsied,

"Yes Miss!" After Antoinette closed her door, Lucy sighed and bent over to pick up the sandwiches. But as she turned, she gave a quick squeak when she found Erik behind her.

"Quiet Lucy! You'll wake the whole house." he told her.

"Sorry sir! It's just you scared me! You walk so softly!" she said.

"I've had lots of practice. What are those for?" he asked pointing to the sandwiches.

"Well...I just thought you'd like a late night snack sir!" Lucy said cautiously. He grunted and said,

"Well I am a bit hungry, say...what were you speaking with Mlle Carone about?"

"She asked me to fetch you sir. She'd like a word!" said Lucy.

"Thank you!" he said crossing over to the door. Lucy held out the platter,

"Your snack sir!" He took it without a word and Lucy walked away with a triumphant giggle. When Antoinette opened the door, her eyes grew as big as saucers when she saw Erik, his white blouse open, and he mouth chewing on a sandwich from that infamous platter.

"What are you doing with that!" she squeaked. He said with his mouth full,

"I always become ravenous when I'm inspired to write a new composition. You wish to speak with me?" As he licked his fingers, she said pulling him in and checking the hall,

"Get in here before anyone sees you! Lord in Heaven!"

"What's the matter with you?" asked Erik.

"Did you know in England, they have the quaint little custom of ladies leaving sandwiches for their lovers!" she said folding her arms upon closing the door. Erik smirked,

"And yet...if someone saw me come out of here with an empty platter..." She paled,

"O Lord! I'm ruined!" He took another sandwich and waved her off leaning against the desk,

"Don't worry! No one in their right minds would ever believe a stunning girl like you would care for a vile looking creature like me!" She looked at him and smirked,

"Don't underestimate yourself Mousier! And you are certainly anything...but vile..." He gulped down his sandwich and said while trying not to blush,

"What do you want to tell me?" She took a sandwich and said,

"First give me one of those. I'm always become ravenous when I'm inspired to crawl under a rock from humiliation!"

"Well?" She sighed,

"Well, Lucy finally told me the truth."

"About what?" asked Erik growing interested. She took a bite and said,

"About she and Jefferson. They were on the front porch together...shall we say...making sandwiches?" Understanding her innuendo, Erik nodded,

"Given her mother's disapproval I can see why they would lie."

"And they said Miss Harould saw them on their way to bed. We can ask her to confirm the story, but the really interesting bit is...on their way upstairs...Lucy and Jefferson saw his Lordship coming down the stairs with his cigar! They said it was about three in the morning!" Antoinette told him as she leaned on the desk next to him.

"Well that gives us our time of death..." said Erik in thought.

"But it still gives everyone an opportunity to kill him!" said Antoinette.

"I know...how did you figure out Lucy and Jefferson were together last night?" asked Erik looking at her.

"Remember when her mother said she was waiting up for her...and then she came in with her hair messed up? And when they both lied well, it was easy to see they were keeping their passion a secret!" she said with a wry smile. Erik sighed and stared down the carpet,

"If I had a beautiful woman I could make love to I would shout it from the rooftops!"

"Would you now?" asked Antoinette amused.

"But it will never happen." said Erik.

"And why not?" she asked him. He scoffed,

"It's it obvious? I'm too ugly to have a wonderful thing like love happen to me!" She stopped him from taking another bite by taking away his sandwich and putting it back on the tray. She then looked him square in the face and said,

"Erik. Get this into your head. I don't know what is under that eye patch, but I know even if it is horrid it is not enough to make you ugly. It is only a small part of a body that is desirable and attractive to the point of driving a woman mad with passion."

"You...you can't possible think I'm handsome...what physical traits about me could possibly inspire you to say that?" he asked with disbelief. She leaned towards him and said with a sly smile and a dry wit,

"Do you want the whole list or just...highlights?" Erik shook his head trying to clear his thoughts. This had to be a dream. A wonderful dream with a gorgeous woman with a open, soft face glowing in the candlelight, her lips parted open, her dressing gown open revealing her blue and white toile patterned nightgown flowing down her curves. He tried to speak,

"No...you can't...you just can't..." She raised a hand over his lips to stop the sound,

"The whole list then...I've always favored tall men, it's so much easier to hug and embrace. Your shoulders, your arms, your chest...all inherited from some Greek god no doubt..." She put her hand to his cheek,

"Your strong jaw...that wonderful cleft in your chin that you stroke with your thumb when in thought ...that warm...shy, sweet smile of yours that brings out premature crows feet...and those intoxicating and deep green eyes of yours...that are so intense and focused...yet always looking so lost...oh yes Erik...a girl can easily lose her heart to you." He covered her hand with his own and said,

"But you've only known me a few days..."

"Sometimes...a few days is all it takes!" she told him. He stood and brought her with him. Cautiously, he turned his head, so that he could kiss her palm. She closed her eyes in delight and asked,

"Are you still hungry?"

"Yes..."

"You said you were writing a composition...what were you writing?" she said her voice trembling. He brought her closer, so close she was leaning on him.

"I forget...but the hunger remains...Toni..." he said beginning to lean into her smiling face. Then a knock on the door made them jump, and Andre called from the other side,

"Mlle. Carone? Are you decent?" She sighed and whispered,

"Unfortunately!" Erik stepped back,

"I'd better hide. He might fire you for misconduct." he said.

"I wish!" she said going to answer the door. She closed her robe and opened the door to see Andre still in his shirt and breeches but with his robe on ask her,

"You didn't happen to see my bag with my shaving kit, did you? It seems to be missing from my luggage." She said,

"Let me check." But when she turned back to the room, she saw Erik and the platter gone. She searched the room for him, to which Andre assumed she was searching for his shaving kit. When Erik was nowhere to be found, she returned to the door and muttered,

"Not here..."

"Oh bother! I hope Firmin doesn't have it! He's terribly rude when awoken!" huffed Andre.

"M. Andre?" called a voice down the hall. Antoinette looked out and with shock saw Erik leaning against the doorframe to his room three doors away. He held out a small bag and said,

"I believe this is what you are looking for." Andre came down and took the bag smiling,

"Oh yes! That's it! Thank you Erik! Well, goodnight all!" As the older man returned to his room, he never saw Antoinette and Erik still staring at each other; her expression of delighted astonishment, his own, fond amusement. Erik nodded to her, while taking a bite out of a sandwich,

"Goodnight Toni."

"Goodnight Erik!" she said with a smile as they continued to look at each other while shutting their own doors. Antoinette giggled and caressed the hand that had his kiss on it.

Meanwhile, Erik undressed, a smile on his face. He knew he should tell Toni in the morning they must stick to propriety, but he still smiled at the thought that she had come to him willingly. He never held a willing woman in his arms before, and it was quite the experience. Taking off his shirt, he noticed she had left her scent on it. He breathed it in and then looked aside to the vanity. And for the first time in his existence, Erik didn't see a repulsive carcass.

He took off the eye patch to make sure he was looking at the same man, and sure enough he was...but now that man in the mirror didn't seem too ugly. Was he always in such good shape? He never noticed. And she might be right. His deformity was only a small part of his body.

He shook his head. This was all a little too much to grasp all at once. And a voice in his head was still hurling insults at him, cursing his face, but that voice was smaller than it had been before. He blew out the candle and slipped under the covers, not noticing he still had his shirt in his hand, but taking in her fragrance still.

In the morning, Lady Bowler joined them in the dining room for breakfast.

"How are you this morning Madame?" asked Firmin as Andre pulled out her chair for her. She gave a weak smile,

"Better. Thank you! Lord, I have so much to do! The funeral is tomorrow. So much to do between then!" she said shaking her head as Miss Wilcox came in to serve breakfast. She gasped and told her mistress,

"Milady! The ball! I believe we've forgotten all about it!"

"What ball?" asked Firmin always interested when it came to a party. Lady Bowler sighed and held her forehead in her hand,

"Charles and I were to have a ball this weekend! It's too late to stop people from coming, most of them are to arrive today!" Andre patted her hand,

"Well, look on the bright side Milady. You won't have to send as many impersonal telegraphs telling people His Lordship is dead. You get to do it in person and have your close friends comfort you!"

"That's true. In fact, If my guests are up to it...I believe we shall still have the Masque...in Charles memory. He loved to dress up in costume so!" she said with a smile at the memory. Firmin exchanged glances with Erik and said,

"A Masque you say? How convenient!"

"Not for me, Mousier! Now I must change my costume! I shall simply have to wear a black Domino mask I suppose." she sighed pushing her eggs around her plate. Antoinette smiled and leaned towards her saying,

"Madame, I should be most happy to help you prepare the funeral services and the Masque. So that you may properly grieve and not strain yourself during this difficult time." Lady Bowler smiled,

"Thank you Mlle. Carone! That is very kind! And I insist you all come to the party while you are here. To give you a break from your investigation."

"Thank you Your Ladyship. We shall all enjoy it immensely, I'm sure!" said Firmin.

"And don't worry Mousier. Mlle. Carone and I can go into town and pick up some costumes for you while you and M. Andre stay at the house and look for clues." Erik told him. Antoinette smiled across the table at Erik's cleaver mind. Andre said taking a bite of his sausage,

"Excellent idea, Erik! Maybe we can get this mystery solved before the ball and really have something to celebrate!" Firmin eyed Erik. He knew Erik was going into town to investigate, but, he also knew he was giving him and Andre an opportunity to show they could do real detective work by looking about the house. Lady Bowler said to M. Firmin,

"It must be wonderful having such capable assistants who take such pride in their work." As Firmin replied,

"Yes and Andre and I took care to hire only the best and brightest who understand business comes before pleasure, " Antoinette slyly slipped her foot out of it's shoe and reached across the table underneath to go up Erik's pant leg and stroke his ankle. Erik froze mid bite and looked at her across the table stunned at her action and her flirtatious wink at him and she casually sat in her seat as if nothing was going on and as if Erik's skin wasn't on fire from her touch. Oblivious to the happenings at the other end of the table, Andre asked Lady Bowler,

"So has England had much rain this year?"

Later, Erik was in the stable waiting for Grady to hitch up a pair of horses to a buggy. Grady said, with false respect dripping in his voice,

"Sorry sir, I can't take you and the lady to town myself, but I have a lot of work to do by myself here." Erik slipped on his brown leather gloves that went with his forest green jacket and tan vest and said,

"We'll manage thank you." Then Antoinette entered the stable adjusting her hat as she asked Erik,

"Ready to go?" Erik watched Grady go to the other side of the stable out of earshot and say,

"Yes...may I speak with you?" She smiled,

"Always!"

"Mlle. Carone...Antoinette...Toni...about last night...don't get me wrong...I've waited my entire life for something like that to happen to me...but I don't want you to do anything we might regret. May we...take things slowly?" Erik asked, pleading her with his eyes. She smiled softly and said,

"You're right. I suppose my independent nature got the better of me. We shall start off as friends if you wish it and see what progresses from there." He smiled and said,

"Thank you. And yes, I'm ready to go. I can't wait to get to the village and ask about Canter...did you happen to notice the lamps on this buggy are filled with kerosene?" She nodded and said knowingly as Erik helped her get in the seat,

"I did...and I already asked Thompkins about it. He said the only kerosene they use is in the stables. Her Ladyship doesn't care for the smell. It would appear Erik, that Grady is looking more and more guilty!" Erik climbed in, not taking his seat yet as he took up the reins,

"I know...but something isn't adding up. I just can't picture Grady sneaking up behind his Lordship and taking him by surprise. Grady is too arrogant and too hotheaded not to have a full confrontation. And what...WHOA!" Erik had just began to sit down, when he felt something pinch the flesh of his bottom hard. He stood and rubbed the spot looking suspiciously down at Antoinette who batted her lashes and grinned,

"That was just for the road!" He sighed and sat beside her giving her a disapproving look, but she noticed a smirk dancing about on his lips. Erik started the team and they drove away, not seeing Grady come out of the shadows of the stables and look after them with a dark scowl across his features.

Once in the village, Antoinette and Erik split up to do their investigations. Erik went to the pub to find Tom Kelsey's brother, and Antoinette went about asking for John Canter's sister. She finally found her selling wonderful and colorful patchwork quilts at a small booth.

"Yes Miss! My brother was a good man! A cheap man! But a good one!"

"Mrs. Thomas tell me. Has anyone made any threats or such towards you since your brother died?" asked Josephine.

"Nothing of the kind! John didn't have an enemy in this world God bless him! But I wouldn't be surprised if someone was after his money!" she said pointing a wrinkled old finger at Antoinette.

"Money?" she asked confused.

"Aye money! See there was a reason John Canter was so cheap, my dear! From the time he started working at Dogwood as a lad till the day he died he saved up his wages and spent almost nothing on himself! He'd always hide his money away someplace but during the winter when there was no gardens to tend he kept it close by him. Didn't believe in banks he did. Why...when my son Joe came down with a fever when he was twelve, I asked John for a loan to buy some medicine." said Mrs. Thomas.

"And he gave it to you?" asked Antoinette.

"Of course! He knew family always came first, but Lord! Did he kick and scream while he did it! He kept telling Joe, 'Why couldn't you get sick after I'm retired?' Saints, I miss that man!" said Mrs. Thomas wistfully.

"Mrs. Thomas, didn't your brother tell you where he hid the money? After all it is yours now by right!" asked Antoinette.

"He didn't expect to die before he could! I tried to tell the Bowlers about John's stash, but they brushed me off and told me all John had was what they had given me. Swells! What do they know about going without?" huffed Mrs. Thomas.

"Mrs. Thomas, you have helped me more than you could know! Now if you could just help me once more. Can you lend me Mr. Canter's belongings? So that my employers could have a look?" asked Antoinette.

"Certainly! They're of no use to me! And besides, I'm not selling much today." she said preparing to load up her booth. Antoinette stopped her and smiled,

"Actually, I was wondering if you might sell me one of your blankets...and...how fast can you sew a dress?" Mrs. Thomas furrowed her brow in curiosity at the young French girl.

Back at Dogwood, Firmin and Andre crept about the hall and tiptoed inside the study.

"Why are we sneaking about?" asked Andre.

"Because Lady Bowler didn't give us permission to search her husband's desk!" said Firmin.

"Why didn't we ask her?" asked Andre.

"And give her or anyone else an opportunity to hide any evidence? Andre, I'm beginning to wonder if Erik was right in his previous disbelief that we couldn't be detectives!" said Firmin going to the desk.

"I'm not used to sneaking about and snooping through people's things I guess. After all it isn't very polite!" said Andre keeping watch out the crack in the door. Firmin riffled through papers,

"Well get use to it! This is what detectives do! We sneak and snoop!"

"Are we looking for that post that came for his Lordship?" asked Andre.

"Yes. If we find that, it would explain what put Lord Bowler in such a happy mood before he was hit in the head with a shovel!" said Firmin.

"Why would there be a shovel in the house anyway? The only two people who have use of it in this house, are the gardener and that Grady fellow. And both were unaccounted for when Canter died!" said Andre pointing a finger at him.

"But Tom has a solid alibi! Grady lied!" pointed out Firmin.

"Yes, but Tom's alibi is his brother. And family could say anything to defend their loved ones from the guillotine!" said Andre.

"They don't use the guillotine here, they hang them by the neck!" said Firmin. An image of five years ago, and a dead stagehand came to mind, and they both shivered.

"Michael, did we do the right thing...asking the Phantom for help?" Firmin shook his head,

"Giles, I don't believe we asked the Phantom for help. I believe we asked a scared young man named Erik."

"Yes, he certainly hasn't acted like the Phantom has he? You only see a hint of it when he tells us what to investigate! And even then...you can see the trust he has in us that we can do it. And you have noticed they way he's acted around Mlle. Carone?" asked Andre with a pointed look to Firmin. Firmin smiled while reading a letter,

"I have! And he certainly never appeared to be as the shy school boy with Christine Daae! And you have noticed she finds him attractive?"

"Of course! And Mlle. Carone's never taken such interest in anyone before! And she flirts with him constantly! The poor man...I think he's overwhelmed!" laughed Andre.

"I would be too if a beautiful young lady gave me attention I never had before!" said Firmin. Silence fell for a moment, save for the rustle of papers, when Andre said in thought,

"Firmin? Doesn't it strike you odd a grieving widow would give an expensive Masque when her husband had been in debt? And she still had to bury him?" Firmin held up a paper,

"Not half as odd as this!" said Firmin. Andre came over, trying to read over his shoulder,

"What is it?" Firmin read,

"To Lord C. Wittingham Bowler. Stop. Grady was in jail for robbery. Stop. Also charged with arson since he burned houses he broke into. Stop. Fire him immediately or call the constable. Stop. Your Friend, Sir James Fletcher, Barrister. Stop. August 16th, 1875. Stop! This is it Andre! This is what the Lord received in the post! Grady's criminal record!"

"But why would he be happy about it?" asked Andre. Firmin looked out the window, but then pointed to the scene below,

"Andre! It's Bowers again! And he's got a team of dogs sniffing about!"

"What is he looking for?" asked Andre. Then it occurred to them.

"The shovel!" they said at once rushing out.

Meanwhile, Jake Kelsey told Erik as he was unloading kegs of beer outside his pub,

"Aye, my brother was with us the other night! And you can ask any of those old gents in there. They're here almost all the time!"

"I know. I already asked them. And they told me how your wife shouted at you both for having too much to drink!" said Erik with a wry smirk.

"Aye, that we did. My wife Sarah, God save her and make her a saint! She had to drive Tom back to Dogwood in the wee hours of the morning! Good thing she had our dog Rusty with her! No one finds favor with him and he'd protect her at all costs!" said Jake. Suddenly, a door was opened from the pub and a large brown-red Great Dane came out and jumped on Erik.

"Rusty no!" shouted Jake. But the dog merely licked Erik's face and Erik laughed, scratching the dog behind his ears,

"It's alright! I've always had a way with animals!" Jake shifted the cap on the back of his head as his young, blond wife came out to fetch the dog,

"Well I'll be the King of England!"

"Sorry Luv, he got away from me!" apologized Sarah taking the dog by the collar.

"It's alright dear! I was just telling Mister DuL'Soir here, that you took Tom home two nights ago." said Jake.

"Have they caught Lord Bowler's killer yet?" she asked with worry.

"Not yet. Mrs. Kelsey, what time did you take Tom back to Dogwood the other night?" asked Erik.

"Well we left about two-thirty, and got there twenty minutes after. Why do you ask, sir?" she said.

"Did you notice anything strange about the place? Did you hear anything?" asked Erik.

"Now that you mention it, Rusty began to bark at something. I looked up to the east part of the property and I see someone walk to the brush and throw something. And I thought to myself, 'Why would someone be doing up at this hour?' Then I realized I was up and about, so I paid no more mind and got Tom inside." she told him.

"Does this have to do with the murder?" asked Jake.

"I think it has everything to do with the murder! Thank you both, now I must be on my way. Good day!" said Erik walking away to where he had parked the buggy. Coming up the street to meet him was Antoinette, her arms full of packages.

"You will NOT believe what I discovered!" she said.

"No, what I can't believe is that you expect all of this to fit in the buggy!" joked Erik beginning to take the packages and put them inside.

"Oh come now Erik! I thought you wouldn't be the sort of man who assumes that just because I'm a woman I love to shop!" she laughed.

"When are you having the rest delivered?" he asked not batting an eye.

"Tomorrow afternoon after the funeral!" she admitted bluntly.

"Well what would you say if I told you Tom Kelsey's sister in law saw a figure throw something into the east brush at Dogwood grove at about three and twenty the night of the murder?" he said.

"I'd say my news is bigger than your..." But she was interrupted when a large crash of wood was heard, and someone yelled,

"Lookout!" Antoinette screamed when Erik pushed her to the ground out of the way of a rampaging horse, bucking and neighing uncontrollably. Erik stood and growled in frustration at the poor attempt on the villagers to control the animal. He looked around and saw a piece of rope. He grabbed it and quickly formed a lasso and he ran after the beast and threw it in the air where it jerked tight around the animals neck. Erik was dragged on his feet a bit, but with a great tug, he had pulled the stallion to the ground. The men of the village jumped on top of the animal and got it under control. As some women helped a dazed Antoinette up, they said,

"That horse could have easily run you down and kill you!"

"Good thing your husband is so strong!" said another as Antoinette locked eyes with Erik who was trying to control his breathing and hold the animal at the same time. She saw all the muscles in his powerful arms rippling, and a seam where the shoulder meets the armhole of his jacket had popped. Never in all her days had she seen a man so strong...with such a wild look to his eyes...that she wanted so much.

"This horse was prodded with a knife to go wild! They cut him in the hind leg and left the knife in!" said a villager. When Erik saw he was right, he threw the end of the rope he held to the ground and came over to Antoinette and grabbed her by the hand pulling her to the carriage.

"We have to get back now!" he growled at her. She had barely sat when he started the team with a snap of the rein and took off. When they drove up the drive to Dogwood, they saw a group of men wrestling with a struggling Grady to get into the back of a carriage with bars on the back windows. Other carriages were in front, and confused guests came out and to the door, where Thompkins stood behind Lady Bowler watching the display. As ladies gasped at the stream of obscenities flowing from Grady's mouth, Erik stopped the buggy and helped Antoinette down in one fluid motion before stomping over to Andre and Firmin and demanding,

"What's going on?"

"Grady has been arrested for Lord Bowler's murder." said Firmin. Bowers came up to them and said cockily,

"We found the missing shovel in the east bushes. Everyone in the house confirmed it was Grady's. Had blood on it."

"But anyone could have thrown it into the woods!" snapped Erik.

"We found the post Lord Bowler received before he died. It told of Grady's criminal past." said Andre somberly.

"That's right. And Scotland Yard sent over a description of a thief who burned down the houses he stole from to get rid of the evidence. Probably thought his Lordship would turn him in. It's Grady alright. Been on the run for the past three years. Not anymore!" said Bowers.

"So you're dropping the case?" barked Erik.

"Case is solved Mousier! And you all helped crack it! Her Ladyship should be giving you your commission any second. And you'll get a little something from the Yard for helping catch him, you can be sure of that! Well, good day!" said Bowers with a tip of his hat. Erik somberly watched Grady being shoved in the back of the paddy wagon and the officers closing the doors. But when he saw Grady look out the bars, he followed his line of vision to the step where Lady Bowler stood. She was regarding him coldly, but Erik knew the passion that burned in Grady's eyes. That was the look of a man who was obsessed with a woman who didn't love him back. He knew that look because he had seen it in his own reflection. The answer came to him clearly then.

Grady was in love with Lady Bowler.


	5. Chapter 5

The next day, a sea of black surrounded the long, deep grave where Lord Charles Wittingham Bowler the third would finally be put to rest. The widow was covered with comforting friends like her face was covered with a veil. The servants stood by her side in somber grays and black. The priest read from the scriptures loudly,

"Ashes to ashes...dust to dust..." As the priest continued, Firmin whispered to Erik harshly,

"I can't possibly believe you aren't convinced Grady is the killer! Why can't you let this go?"

"Because Grady may have been an arsonist...he may have been a thief! But he was no murderer!" whispered Erik back insistently. With Antoinette on his arm, Andre whispered,

"And where's your proof? Grady had the motive, he had the means and he had the opportunity!"

"Actually we don't know that! We never did uncover where Grady really was at the time of the murder! And don't forget, John Canter had a hidden fortune somewhere anyone would love to get their hands on!" pointed out Antoinette in a hushed tone.

"Including Grady a known thief who BURNED the evidence! Chances are he took Canter's money and made that ring of fire to throw people off the scent!" said Andre. Erik furrowed his brow,

"Maybe we have been looking at this the wrong way. Maybe Grady did cause the fire, and he was waiting to collect on the money. What if the real killer used Grady as a scapegoat?"

"Oh God in Heaven! You're insane!" whispered Firmin. Erik looked at him with a seething anger, before walking away from the funeral.

"Erik! Erik, I'm sorry I didn't mean...damn!" said Firmin saying the last word out loud. The priest stopped and joined the mourners in giving him disapproving looks. Andre and Antoinette stifled their laughter as Firmin said,

"Damn shame that's what it is! Damn shame!" When the services continued with a red faced Firmin staying respectfully quiet, Andre whispered to Antoinette,

"Go and check on Erik, my dear. While no one's about." Antoinette nodded and mouthed, 'Thank you!' before walking off down the road towards the house ten minutes away. When she arrived, she heard a lonely, sad song playing on the piano and filling the house with music. She followed the sound like a sailor would to a deadly siren when she heard an angel of heaven sing in a husky and soulful baritone,

"¯ Child of the wilderness, born into emptiness,

learn-to be lonely, learn to find your way in darkness.

Who will be there-for you? Com-fort and care-for you?

Learn to-be lonely, learn to be your one companion.

Never dreamed-out in the world, there are arms to hold you.

You've al-ways-known! Your heart-was on-its-own!

So laugh-in your loneli-ness. Child of the wilderness.

Learn to be lone-ly. Learn how to love-life that is lived-a-lone.¯" Antoinette found the music room and saw Erik playing the piano masterfully. Her eyes watched his hands, oh, his wonderful hands! They were treating the keys like a long lost lover. Gently and with passion. He finished singing in that captivating, heart melting voice,

"¯Learn-to be lone-ly. Life can be lived, life can be loved-a-lone." ¯

"What a beautiful and depressing song. Perfect for a funeral!" she jested watching his still back. He heard her boots echo on the marble floor as she came towards him. He shut his eyes when he felt her hands come to his shoulders and begin to massage them.

"Erik...you aren't alone anymore. You have us." she said.

"No Mam'selle. The deal has been finished. I helped them solve the crime. Now once they cash in on their commission, I shall go my seperate way." he said. Outside in the hall, Firmin stopped Andre from going in and whispered,

"Wait!" They listened behind the door to hear Antoinette say,

"But the mystery isn't solved. Grady didn't kill Lord Bowers." Erik stood and walked to the window rubbing his temples.

"All the evidence says he did! I have no proof of my theory! Just a look he gave Lady Bowler when he was being arrested!"

"What look?" she asked. He faced her.

"The same look I had on my face five years ago, when I learned Christine didn't love me."

"Who's Christine?" she asked.

"You never heard the story?" asked Erik.

"I was in America at the time. In Louisana living with my cajun cousin. I didn't hear much about Paris at all." she told him. He sighed and sat her down on the piano bench. He kneeled before her and took her hands,

"Toni, what I am about to tell you...may change your entire opinion about me. But don't interrupt until I'm finished."

"Very well Erik."

"I was born to a mother from a well to do family, but they had disownered her for having an affair out of wedlock with my father, whoever he was. She raised me for five years, but she was replused by me. I was born with a facial defect, and she had been so beautiful, she hated the sight of me. She thought I was the punishment for her sin. When I was five, she had enough. She sold me to the gypsies. They would call me 'The Devil's Child' and keep me in a cage for their freak show. My gypsy master, would beat me daily before each show, and then pull off my burlap sack mask for the world to laugh at. That was my life for six years. Then one day, I decided I had to escape. I had to fight back. So I began to physically train myself in my cage everyday to make myself strong and to pass the time. I would do push up, chin ups that sort of thing. I waited for my chance. Then it came one night after one of my 'performances'. While collecting the tips, my gyspy master left a piece of rope on the ground. I took it and brought it aroung his neck, choaking the life out of him. But the alarm was raised for the police and I didn't know what to do. Luckily, the young ballerina who would grow to be Madame Giry, the head ballet mistress during my life of the Opera house, had seen it all and had pity for me. She hid me in the Opera Populaire, and I began to teach myself about music, architechture, science, illusion, anything and everything that came into the theater door. One day, about ten years later, a young girl sang in the chapel while praying for her father. I hid in the shadows, and then complimented her. She wasn't scared to my surprise, but she asked if I was the Angel of Music. I said yes. I began to train her to sing, using my knowledge of the opera. Meanwhile, when I was a thick headed teenager, I had begun to play tricks on the cast and crew, then demanding a salary from the managers so prevent the tricks to happen. The first manager paid it, thinking it might bring him good luck to have a ghost in his favor. The second paid it, out of fear when my pranks were getting more dangerous. It was Andre and Firmin who refused me, not believing I could bring them harm. At that same time, Christine had blossomed into a dazzeling beauty, and I, foolishly, thought I was in love with her. That she could help me have a normal life. I demanded they make her the star and replace this shreaking harpy named La Carlotta. They refused so to prove my point...I killed a stagehand. He was a drunk and a filanderer, who noone missed, but I still strangled him and hung him by his neck during a performance. Christine was being courted by her childhood sweetheart, the Vicompt De Changy, and I overheard them enchange their proclaimations of love towards each other. I flew into a jealous rage. I stayed away for four months and wrote an opera. _Don Juan Triumphant._ At the New Year's Masque, I appeared and told them to do the opera and cast Christine in the lead. They did thinking they could trap me when I would come to watch Christine. But I had a surprise for them. I killed the lead tenor and took his place in the last act. I seduced Christine right on the stage, and they couldn't stop me. Just as I told Christine I'd go anywhere with her, she pulled off my mask and showed my face to the world. I was still one step in front of them. I disappeared into a trapdoor with Christine, and pulled a lever dropping the chandelier below, sending the House into flames. The Vicompt came to save Christine, but I trapped him in my punjab lasson and told Christine to choose me or he would die. She told me she pityed me, and that I was not alone...and then she kissed me. Twice. That snapped me out of the madness and I came to my senses releasing them both. I left my underground lake until I was sure the mob that came for my blood was gone. I stayed down there for five years. I believe you know the rest." Erik had been looking down at the ground, knowing he'd never finish the story if he had to look at her face. While he waited for her to respond, Firmin and Andre silently made a mutual decision in the hall. Antoinette raised his chin so his eyes could look into hers. She smiled,

"You're right. It did change my opinion of you. I now know you are the strongest, most beautiful soul I've ever met and ever will meet!" He asked in confusion,

"You aren't horrified by my past?"

"What's done is done. If you weren't repented of your sins, you wouldn't have told me and feared I would hate you. The man I see before me, is a total stranger from that sad tale." she said stroking his hair.

"We couldn't agree more." said Firmin coming in the door. Erik and Antoinette stood, Erik wiping his wet face as he asked,

"How long were you listening?" Andre came in and said,

"From the beginning."

"Erik. I'm sorry for my comment earlier. You aren't insane. It's a miracle you're not after we just heard!" said Firmin. Antoinette rubbed his arm in comfort as Erik replied,

"Apology accepted."

"So you plan to leave once we deposit the check?" asked Firmin.

"That used to be my plan..." said Erik not knowing what to do. Andre looked aside to Firmin,

"You know M. Firmin, after we solve this case and clear Grady for murder, we are going to get all sorts of murders thrown at us!" Firmin matched his implying tone,

"Yes, and we could certainly need a good assistant who knows more about detective work than we do!"

"Someone we could also be friends with wouldn't hurt!" said Andre as Antoinette smiled at the two older men.

"Say why don't we ask Erik? We like him enough." said Firmin.

"Why not? I certainly would want a friend like him on my side!" said Andre. Firmin reached forward and said directly to Erik,

"What about it Erik? Care to make our deal a permanent arrangment?" Erik smirked and shook his head before shaking Firmin's hand.

"I remain, gentlemen, your obedient servant!" he said. Firmin rolled his eyes and went out saying,

"Well if I knew he would be corny about it!" Andre winked at Antoinette and said to Erik,

"Come Erik. We have a mystery to solve!"

"Oui Mousier!" called Erik before looking back to Antoinette and smiling. He then reached out for her hand, and she took it interlocking his fingers with hers as they walked out to join the wake.


	6. Chapter 6

The next day, they accompined Lady Bowler to the village to make last minute arrangements for the masque that night. But Andre, Firmin and Erik sought out Constable Bowers and asked,

"Sir, all we are asking is but a moment to speak with the prisoner! To tie up the loose ends..." Taking his napkin from his lap, Bowers wiped his lunch from his mustache and said,

"I'm sorry M. Firmin, but the case is closed! There are no loose ends! And unless you can prove otherwise, I can't help you!"

"Prehaps if you made a deal with Grady, to ease his sentence if he tells us the truth!" suggested Andre. Bowers laughed,

"Truth? Mousiers, you ARE new to the detective business! Criminals don't have a shread of honesty in them or they wouldn't be criminals!" From across the table, Erik said darkly, his fingers steepled in front of his nose as he glared at Bowers,

"Yes, the Constable is quite right Mousiers. Criminals aren't human beings...they're monsters...that need to be destroyed. After all he knows all about the inner workings of the criminal mind. Between leisurely luncheons and lazy afternoon naps and not more than the occasional chicken theif, the Constable is more than capable of taking on a mastermind who plots his dark deed for maybe years at a time, can manipulate the masses and strike terror into even the bravest of men. Unless of course, he is being too comfortable in his position to lift a finger to help the innocent by streching what few brain cells he has and open up his mind to the possibility that another person could have killed Lord Bowler."

"Erik!" warned Andre. Firmin held his forehead in his hand,

"Andre, this is doing nothing for my nerves!" Bowers glared at the younger man and said,

"Gentlemen, your assistant M. DuL'Soir is rude, overzealous and stubborn as a mule! Which is why I'm letting you speak to Grady first thing tomorrow morning." Firmin looked up with confusion and Andre asked,

"Beg your pardon?" Bowers stood and doffed his cap,

"I served in the 5th regeiment to tour India. Served under a lot of fine officers just like your M. DuL'Soir. They were the bravest of men who took nothing from nobody and strove us to achieve excellence and victory! He has earned my respect. See you fellows bright and early tomorrow!" As he walked off, Firmin looked astounded at Erik who sipped his tea causually,

"Who'd have thought being the Opera Ghost could earn you respect!"

"Englishmen!" huffed Andre taking up his hat and leading them out of the cafe. They met Lady Bowler and Antoinette in the street as Antoinette asked,

"Well? Do we get to speak to Grady?"

"What? You are speaking to that foul man again?" asked her Ladyship. Andre took her by the arm and escorted her back to the carriage saying,

"Just seeking some clarity in a few matters, Milady." Firmin said to Erik who took Antoinette by the arm,

"You realize Grady may never tell us the truth?"

"No, but he will tell us something, I'm sure." said Erik. Firmin pointed to the box under Antoinette's other side,

"Not to change the subject, but what have you got there Mam'selle?" Antoinette grinned slyly aside to Erik and said the Firmin,

"It will have to wait till tonight Mousier. I wish this to be a surprise!" Firmin went on ahead of their leisurly pace,

"Must be some kind of costume!"

"I thought you recieved your costume yesterday?" asked Erik.

"No, those packages were filled with items I plan to wear after the Masque." replied Antoinette.

"To do what? The party ends early in the morning." said Erik.

"Let's just say if you get inspired tonight, they'll be plenty of sandwiches waiting!" she said watching his jaw drop to his shoes.

"Toni, we spoke of this! I wish our relationship to progress slowly!" he said stopping her and whispering to her. She pulled some lint off his shoulder, and mock pouted,

"Well I'm impatient!"

"Toni..."

"Erik, I've known you little over a week but I feel so close to you! Can't we rush things a bit every once in a while?" she asked.

"No!"

"Why not?" she asked.

"Because I care for you too much to see you get hurt!" he said without thinking. As it dawned to him what he had just revealed, she smiled sweetly at him,

"And this is the point my cousin told me to tell my gentleman friend that I had no such wicked intentions to seduce him. That I merely wanted to see if his feelings ran beyond friendship for me. Which at this point I ask his forgiveness for teasing him so, and ask like a lady to continue our slow moving courtship now knowing his intentions towards me so I wouldn't have to go through sleepness nights wondering if he would respect me enough to wait for me." Erik smiled at her and said,

"And is this the point where she warned you your suitor might strangle that lovely little neck of yours for driving him crazy?"

"No, she said my suitor would forgive me and escort me back to the carriage, promising me the first dance at the ball tonight!" she told him with a impish grin. He took her by the arm and said,

"My mistake!"

As somber as the funeral had made them the day before, the guests were now quite merry in their costumes and drinking many toasts in memory of his Lordship. The widows all gathered around Lady Bowler, saying Charles would have loved this, all of them in matching black satin gowns and black Domino masks. Firmin, dressed as a knight, said to Andre dressed as King Henri the Eighth as they came down to join the festivities,

"Seems sort of morbid to have a Masque after a funeral doesn't it?"

"Yes. But have you ever been to a Irish wake?" asked Andre.

"No, I haven't." said Firmin.

"Well, it's quite a good time...you see they..." When Andre had stopped, Firmin looked up the foyer stairs to see what had caused him to go so pale. There stood the Phantom of the Opera. Dressed as Red Death once more. His doublet clinging beautifully, his high boots polished to reflect anything, his sword hanging off his side. The long red cape fell behind him, as the white skeleton mask stared down at them. As he came down the stairs, Firmin choaked back his stomach and said,

"You just had to wear THAT didn't you?" Erik smirked from under the mask,

"It is the only costume I own."

"Andre..."

"I know. This is doing nothing for your nerves!" Andre said cutting Firmin off as Erik sensed someone's eyes in his back. He looked up the stairs and caught his breath. There stood a Queen of Hearts. Dressed in a silk red gown with a tiered bustle and train behind her, sparkling red beads and gold embroidered hearts shimmering in the light. She stopped a few steps above Erik and removed the gold mask she held to her face layered with curls falling down from the top of her head. Realizing it was the Queen of his heart, Erik breathed out her name,

"Antoinette!" She smiled,

"Bon Soir Mousier DuL'Soir. You still wish the first dance don't you?" He took her by the arm and escorted her into the ballroom,

"Providing it lasts all night!" Firmin said dryly to Andre as they followed,

"Make you wonder if he even remembers Christine Daae anymore!"

The night went smoothly. Everyone laughed, drank and sampled more than enought sweets. And Antoinette found herself constantly in Erik's arms. She did have to show him the most basic of dance steps, since he obviously never danced himself before, but by the end of the night, he was quite the master. She couldn't take her eyes off him, not since she had first seen him dressed in that stunning red velvet suit. It looked so dashing on him! But as usual, he deniened her claim that every female in the room were having obscene thoughts and fanning themselves a little more than usual by his appearance, every male seething with jealousy. But she never let it bother her. All that mattered that she was with him. When midnight was drawing near, Lady Bowler clapped her hands and told everyone,

"Ten minutes till the unmasking, Ladies and Gentlemen!" Everyone applauded, but Antoinette turned back to find Erik growing as pale as his mask.

"Erik? What's..."

"They can't see my face! NO ONE must see!" he whispered half to himself in fear. She sighed and rolled her eyes, pulling him out to the terrace overlooking the gardens near the stables saying,

"Come on Cinderella! I promise you won't become a pumpkin when the clock strikes twelve!" They found themselves alone, the lights and music soft in the distance, but the moonlight glowing so brightly it might as well be day.

"Thank you. I wouldn't want to cause any unnessecary upset tonight!" he said as she sat on a bench.

"Erik, you must be the most vain man I've ever met!" sighed Antoinette with a shake of her head. He turned to her,

"Vain?"

"Yes, for only a vain person obssesses about their looks and what people think of their looks. To be honest it gets quiet annoying!" she said. A smile played across his lips,

"And I suppose you don't think I find anything annoying about you?"

"What could you possibly find annoying about someone as wonderful as me?" she said out of jest. Erik propped one leg aganist the bench and leaned on it,

"You are a nosy, pushy, opiniated woman whose attempts at her own twisted sense of humor and flattery are maddening!" She smiled,

"Yes, but I'm cute!" Laughing at her batting her eyes, he pulled her to her feet and held on to both of her hands,

"Why do you make me laugh so much? I've never laughed so much before!"

"It sounds like to me you haven't done a lot of things before. Haven't shaved yourself, haven't traveled, haven't danced. I'm betting...you've never kissed a girl before..." she said cocking her head to the side. He held her chin and said,

"No, I did that once. But I never fully enjoyed it!"

"Pity!" she said. He leaned down to her,

"Not for long!" But they both jumped when they heard a twig snap and a rustle of fabric.

"Oh wait!" Antoinette said stomping her foot. But when Erik saw the cloaked rider in black taking a horse, he yelled out,

"Hey!" The rider took out a pistol and fired it. Erik pulled Antoinette and himself behind a tree as the bullet richocied off the bark. Then Erik hissed at her,

"Stay here!" He ran off into the barn and took a horse, galloping out after the stranger a second later. Firmin and Andre followed by a crowd of guests came out as Antoinette shouted,

"Erik!"

"What's going on?" asked Andre.

"What was that shot?" asked Firmin. On the darkened trail, Erik's cape flew behind him in the passing current of air, his eyes focused on the intruder as he rode the horse hard. Just as he was catching up, the rider aimed and shot back towards Erik twice. The first missed, but the second grazed his left arm deeply. He fell off his horse with a grunt clutching his wound, his mask fluttering off and landing to the ground five feet away.

"ERRIKK!" screamed Antoinette picking up her skirts and running ahead of Andre and Firmin and a few of the other male guests. She reached him first, as he was trying to sit up, kneeling on his knees as he clutched his wound, the blood flowing freely. She kneeled and touched his shoulder. He looked up, to which she gasped at his bare face. If was red and twisted like burned flesh, streched across from his nose in one place while sunken in around the eye and cheekbone in another. His wig was falling off, and she could see his receding hairline covered with some bumps of skin. His eyes began to water in dispair as he whispered,

"Antoinette!" Firmin and Andre came then and helped Erik to his feet. While Firmin pulled Erik's good arm over his own shoulders, Andre draped Erik's face from view with his cape, covering his arm as well saying,

"Here Erik! No one can see you with this!" Antoinette saw Erik give her one fleeting glance and then hung his head away as he let the partners take him back to the house, reassurring the other's that followed that Erik would be alright. While guests rushed past her to form a search party for the intruder, Antoinette reached over in the grass and picked up Erik's fallen mask, holding it in her lap. With tears in her eyes, she looked up to the stars of the nightsky and whispered,

"Thank you...for letting me not think he was ugly when I first saw him. Thank you." Bowing her head to close her prayer of thanksgiving, she got up and slowly walked back towards the house. The house was quiet when she returned. The men were on the hunt and the women had retired to their rooms. She went up the stairs and passed Mrs. Bradley and Thompkins coming out of Erik's bedroom with strained red velvet and bowls full of red tinted water. She stopped Thompkins who held his suit,

"Can the suit be spared?"

"Yes Miss. M. DuL'Soir told me of a way to get blood out of velvet. And the hole from the bullet can be easily mended to where it looks like it never was ripped, thanks to Mrs. Thomas in the village." he said. She smiled,

"I am well aquainted with Mrs. Thomas' work. She crafted this for me tonight." she said gesturing to her dress.

"And the man who wears the suit and looks good in it can be easily mended too Miss." said Mrs. Bradley knowing what Antoinette was really asking about." Antoinette gave her a tired smile and touched her arm, then she went to Erik's door and went inside. She saw him sitting on the edge of the bed, his shirt off, but his arm in a bandage and a sling. His back was to her, and his shoulders were slumped as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. His wig was off, but she saw he wore his eyepatch. Obviously for the servants not to see what she had just seen moments before.

"Erik?" she softly called. Without turning to her, he said,

"Do you always smell of jasmine?"

"It's my favorite fragrance." she told him starting to come around to face him. On her way, she saw the candlelight cast shadows on his broad back. That's when she saw the welts and scarring on his back. Remembering the gyspsies who were so cruel to him, she shivered. Finally, she stood in front of him, but his gaze remained to the floor. The boy in him had returned, and was expecting her to hurt him like everyone else in his life had. She saw him bracing himself and wondered if he did that out of habit from when he was back with the gyspsies and knowing he would be getting a beating soon. She showed him his mask and said,

"I found this outside." He looked up at it in her hands and began to lean forward to get it, when she leaned over, feeling him tense, but instantly relax when her lips brushed his softly in a sweet, long kiss. When she pulled back, she looked into his confused eyes and whispered sternly,

"Don't ever scare me like that again." She gave him his mask, caressing his left cheek a moment, before taking her leave. Erik looked down at the porceline mask in his grasp. Another woman had just willingly kissed him, but this time, he had enjoyed it fully. This time, there was no pity in her eyes. Just fear...that she might lose him. Christine had fear in her eyes...but fear she might lose the Vicompt and not Erik. And there had been mostly pity. But in Antoinette's eyes he saw what had been scaring and thrilling him for the past week.

Desire.


	7. Chapter 7

The next morning, Lady Bowler came out of her rooms and made her way into the study where Firmin, Andre, Antoinette and Erik were waiting for her. They all stood, and Lady Bowler made her way over to Erik who had been helped into a crisp white shirt by Thompkins, who then hung the arm from Erik's neck in a sling. Erik had a midnight blue coat on his good arm, the rest just hanging over his shoulder.

"M. DuL'Soir, you are forever in my debt! You were so brave to go after that madman who shot at you and Mlle. Carone in the garden!" she told him. Erik gave her a gentle smile,

"Thank you Lady Bowler. It was nothing." She turned to the partners,

"You sure you won't stay to let M. DuL'Soir recuperate?" Andre said,

"We must return to Paris I'm afraid. Not to worry, Erik is a strong man." She went to her desk as they sat down,

"Then let me write you your check. I hope you don't mind, but I shall add a little more to cover M. DuL'Soir's medical expenses."

"You are too kind, Madame!" said Firmin. Before the ink was dry and handed into Firmin's eager hands, Constable Bowers burst in with Thompkins on his coattails saying,

"Sorry Milady, but he insists on seeing you!"

"Constable Bowers! What is the meaning of this!" demanded Lady Bowler standing.

"Terribly sorry, but when word reached me the detectives were leaving, I had to rush over! Grady has been murdered!" said Bowers.

"What?" cried the partners at once standing.

"Last night, right in the holding cell!" said Bowers.

"Didn't the guard see who did it?" asked Erik.

"This is a small village Mousier. My men aren't trained to stand guard all night!" explained Bowers.

"That's a pitiful excuse!" said Andre.

"Who would shoot Grady in his cell?" asked Lady Bowler.

"Whoever wanted John Canter's money!" exclaimed Antoinette.

"Money? What money?" asked Bowers.

"John Canter's life savings. Grady knew of it and that's why he set the ring of fire around Mr. Canter when he died in the garden." explained Erik.

"Whoever killed Grady then must be after Canter's money and know where it is. Milady, I shall return in the hour with a search warrent to search the premises!" said Bowers making his way out.

"Constable really! You surely can't believe a simple gardener had a fortune!" laughed Lady Bowers.

"We shall see your Ladyship. We shall see!" said the Constable followed by the partners and Erik. Antoinette asked Lady Bowler,

"Can I get you some tea, Madame?" Lady Bowler shook her head and left the office saying,

"No, but I think I'll go hide in the library until Constable Bowers has finished invading my home!" She entered the hall, but instead of going right to the library, she turned left to do down the back stairs and out to the gardens. She took up a small garden spade and ran as fast as her skirts would allow to the petunia bushes. She kneeled over and dug in the hard earth, until the spade hit something with a metallic clunk. She swept the remaining dirt away with her hands and pulled out the square and rusty green box locked with a study chain. She smiled in victory, but her face fell in pale horror when she heard a husky, baritone accented with French say behind her,

"I'll take that Madame." She turned her head to look over her shoulder at Erik who was smiling gently as if out of pity. She gulped,

"You know then?"

"I've had my suspicions since the beginning, but I was confirmed three times this morning." he said.

"How? I thought I had been so careful." she said her brows in confusion. He stepped forward,

"First, you said ' that madman who shot at you and Mlle. Carone in the garden.' We told noone we were out in the gardens, and the only one who could have known we were alone together when the shot was fired would have had to been the caped shooter. Then you asked who would want to SHOOT Grady, when Constable Bowers had said nothing about how Grady had been killed. And finally, only the person who knew where Grady had found John Canter's hidden fortune could have dug it up."

"What are you going to do with me?" she asked.

"The right thing. Mousiers!" called Erik to which Andre, Firmin and Constable Bowers came out from the nearby brush. Bowers said with dissappointment evident,

"I'd never once thought it of you Ma'am. So how'd it happen?" Firmin explained,

"When Canter died of a failed heart last month, Grady saw him. He must have had his last wages in hand and a shovel. Being an expereinced theif, it didn't take Grady long to figure out Canter had buried his money. And habits are hard to break so he set fire around Canter so no one would find anything a miss. He began to dig around for the treasure. Sometimes leaving his shovel in the house."

"But he wasn't just after money. He had his eye on Lady Bowler and thought he to have a chance with her considering she was on the outs with Lord Bowler." said Andre.

"He was in love with me for two years. But I had no interest in him." she said.

"You didn't until he told you of John Canter's fortune. Being in debt and having a lifestyle, you couldn't help but listen. You didn't believe him at first, but when Mrs. Thomas came about asking about it, you knew he was telling the truth. And that Grady had no idea how much there must have been hidden away. So you seduced him. I remember a few of the servants in their testimonies complaining about noises from Grady's room the night your husband was murdered. He was making love to you that night wasn't he?" asked Firmin.

"Yes." she said without emotion. Erik continued,

"You had hoped Grady would tell you where the money was hidden. But your husband wouldn't let the matter lie. He even convinced Bowers to give him photographs to send to us. He suspected Grady, so he wrote to his barrister friend. The day the post came, he was happy and convinced he had solved the mystery. This made you ill, for you knew if Grady was fired or imprisoned, your chance of the fortune would fly out the window. So, after Grady fell asleep, and the house was quiet, you crept downstairs, took Grady's shovel, and bashed your husband's head in, knowing he would be up and smoking. But Grady had missed you and followed you downstairs. He saw the body and immediately took the shovel and dumped it in the woods, only to be seen by Mrs. Kelsey. You both returned to bed. Then in the morning, you began your role as the grieving widow. Grady lied about his whereabouts, knowing that being your lover would make him an immediate suspect. After we came and started asking around, Grady became defensive. He followed me and Mlle. Carone in the village, and promted a horse to run us down. But when he returned, he was arrested. This wasn't good for your plans at all. For he had yet to tell you of John Canter's money. And then you learned we had plans to speak with him. So after announcing the unmasking at the ball, knowing people would recall seeing you, you slipped out, knowing no one would miss another lady in a black gown and domino mask. Donning a cape, you took a horse, but was surprised by Mlle. Carone and I in the gardens nearby. You shot at us, and then again at me when I gave chase. You managed to give the search party the slip and proceded to the jailhouse. You found Grady practically unguarded. I imagine you finally got your imformation needed out of him, and then shot him. You returned knowing the house would be more concerned about the injured guest than the missing hostess. Did I leave anything out, your Ladyship?" Lady Bowers looked up at him and said,

"Yes. I just want to say Charles was a good man who I cared for deeply once. I regret killing him. Mr. Grady I shall not miss." Constable Bowers came forward and helped her to stand, taking the locked box from her and saying,

"Come Milady. You're under arrest in the name of the Crown." Before she walked off, she turned to Erik and said,

"Mousier, I saw the way you held Mlle. Carone in your arms last night. Charles held me like that once. Then he let go. Never let her go, Mousier."

"Merci Madame." Erik nodded in understanding. Firmin patted Erik's good shoulder before he and Andre followed the Constable into the house. Erik sighed and closed his eyes feeling the sun's warmth. For the first time in his life, justice had truly been done.

A few day's later, the group found themselves in London. It was Andre's suggestion they celebrate by taking a tour of the old city as they deposited all the money they recieved in their bank. They deposited one check from Lady Bowler (it was still good, in spite of her criminal record now) two more from Scotland Yard for helping solve the two murders, and a third from Mrs. Thomas, who was now 90,000 pounds richer. As they walked down the cobblestone streets on their way to supper, Andre said as he and Firmin walked ahead of Erik and Antoinette,

"A quite profitable adventure!"

"Nothing like that ever happened to us in the junk business!" said Firmin dryly as he twirled his cane around in his fingers.

"Scrap metal!" corrected Andre. Antoinette asked Erik,

"What are you thinking Mousier?" He thought back to the events of five years ago. His lonliness. His lurking in the catacombs. His threats to the managers. His 'accidents' on the cast and crew. His obsession with Christine. His rage with the Vicompt. His murders. It had been his darkest hour. Now he was walking in the sunshine on the arm of a beautiful woman who cared for him, behind those same managers arguing about what business they had made a previous fortune in. He smiled,

"Just happy to be out of the shadows, Mam'selle."

**_The End_**


End file.
